


Overheated

by IveDoneMyWaiting



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Alex and Henry love each other the most but sometimes can't communicate, Alex has unresolved issues regarding attention and focus please take care, American Politics, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anxiety, Boys In Love, Caretaking, Caring Henry, Depression, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Food Issues, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Friendship, Idiots in Love, Immigration & Emigration, Lack of Communication, Law School, Love Confessions, Love Letters, M/M, Nightmares, One-Sided Attraction, Panic Attacks, Past Rape/Non-con, Poetry, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pyramus and Thisbe, Repressed Memories, Sexy Times, Sleepy Boys, Sleepy Cuddles, Stubborn Alex, Supportive Rafael Luna, Survivor Guilt, We Accept the Love We Think We Deserve, the non-con is not between H+A their love is pure and beautiful
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:27:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 36,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23811550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IveDoneMyWaiting/pseuds/IveDoneMyWaiting
Summary: **Interested in exploring Alex's relationship to mental health / how this affects Alex and Henry's relationship**Alex is stressed. He's juggling third year of law school, job interviews, and helping with publicity for Henry's book tour. Not to mention helping his mom on the side. She had one more year left in office, and Alex needed to help her make it count. There was some nasty stuff coming from a growing Republican opposition to immigration reform, intimating his mother’s ‘bias’ towards letting immigrants running unchecked into the country – “just look at her family”, they had said.So Alex had jumped at the chance to help with the policy reform without hesitation. He was sure he could balance all of it, but there was a muscle under his eye that hadn’t stop twitching in about two weeks, and Alex had started waking up in the middle of the night gasping, feeling like he couldn’t breathe.It didn't help that one of the lawyers also working in immigration policy reform was a little too friendly. Alex tried to convince Henry it didn't mean anything - he only had eyes for Henry.But he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep hiding everything.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Alex Claremont-Diaz/Original Character(s)
Comments: 117
Kudos: 383





	1. Caffeine Boost

Alex’s hands were shaking. It was the coffee, he tried to convince himself. It was definitely the coffee. He shouldn’t have made that last pot an hour ago, the one he had already finished. It had nothing to do with the files laid open in front of him, depicting in excruciating detail border crossings gone wrong, and how the bodies had been found. This girl in front of him was eight years old, her hand still entangled in her father’s. Alex couldn’t help but think of the way June clutched to their father’s hand the first time he took them all on a trip to the coast, his mother laughing in the surf, Alex too afraid to get in the water. The way Oscar’s strong arms lifted her above the waves. How similar their bodies looked to the ones in the photograph. Alex felt sick. He put his head between his knees and concentrated on his breathing.

He felt a warm hand on his shoulder, gripping him tightly. “Hey, Diaz, you okay?” Chris’ breath was sweet in his ear, smelling of tobacco and peppermints. It always reminded him of the cigars his dad brought at Christmas. When Alex didn’t respond, only gripping his hair tighter, Chris begins to massage his shoulders gently.

“It’s Claremont-Diaz”, Alex says sharply, pulling out of Chris’ grasp. As much as it would be nice to lean on a friend right now, Chris wasn’t a friend, exactly. He was always a little too attentive, a little too forward with his touches, always grabbing Alex’s arm or resting his hand on Alex’s knee. Alex had made it very clear he wasn’t interested, that he only had eyes for one Prince of Wales, but Henry had noticed Chris at the Christmas party, after Chris had one too many glasses of champagne and kept trying to tug Alex to the dance floor. Henry didn’t say anything- Alex had gone to Henry immediately after this started, and they had talked together whether there was anything else he could do to ward off Chris’ unwanted advances – but it wasn’t as if Chris, with his wavy black hair, green eyes, and unbuttoned shirt stained with red wine, revealing a lean, muscular chest, wasn’t a catch. He was one of the best lawyers working for immigration, and Alex, still a third year law student drowning in essays and wondering how he could ever make a real difference, respected him. He knew a tiny bit of Henry worried, no matter how hard Alex tried to kiss his fear away. That night, after Chris had tugged on Alex’s tie one too many times, Henry had tucked an arm around Alex’s waist, reminding everyone at the party who Alex belonged to, and Alex had buried his head into Henry’s neck, inhaling his almost spicy cologne. 

But that party had been months ago now, and in that time, Henry’s book – an anthology of queer historical figures – had been published, just as Alex was cramming for finals, juggling job interviews, and working for his mom on the side. She had one more year left in office, and Alex needed to help her make it count. There was some nasty stuff coming from a growing Republican opposition to immigration reform, intimating his mother’s ‘bias’ towards letting immigrants running unchecked into the country – “just look at her family”, they had said.

So Alex had jumped at the chance to help with the policy reform without hesitation. He was sure he could balance all of it, not to mention help with publicity with Henry’s book, but there was a muscle under his eye that hadn’t stop twitching in about two weeks, and Alex had started waking up in the middle of the night gasping, feeling like he couldn’t breathe. It didn’t help that Henry had been traveling a lot for press tours. He always slept better when Henry was home.

Chris put a cool glass of water into Alex’s hands and pressed a hand on Alex’s knee, quelling his anxious tapping. “Drink.” 

Alex sipped the water. He realized, with a start, that his head was throbbing.

“Alex… what’s the last thing you’ve eaten today?” 

“Uh…” Alex tried to remember. He had grabbed a granola bar when he left the apartment this morning, but there was a small collection of them building up in his backpack. He usually forgot about them by the time he made it to the subway. He had been meaning to grab lunch in between classes but he’d had some research to finish and…

“Here.” Chris hands him half of a meatball sub. “Leftover from lunch. I don’t want it.”

“But-“

“Just eat it. You look like you’re about to pass out." 

Alex gratefully accepted the sandwich, noting that it had a kick to it, even though Chris had told him “he didn’t do spice”. Alex would be lying to himself if he hadn’t noticed that Chris had been having a lot more leftovers recently than usual, but he was always too exhausted to make a fuss. By the time he finished the sandwich, the throbbing in his head had lessened somewhat. He wanted to be home, with Henry, his head on Henry’s chest, Henry running his fingers through his hair, as The Great British Bake-off played in the background.

“Thank you,” Alex mumbled, not looking at Chris.

“Can’t have the FSOTUS fainting away on me. I try to take care of my damsels in distress,” Chris said, winking a little, as he went back to his desk. 

Alex stiffened, and abruptly turned back to his files. There it was again. That invitation to cross the line. How thick could this guy be? “I’m not in distress, and Henry takes cares of me plenty, thanks.”

There was silence behind him. Alex frankly wasn’t interested in continuing the conversation; he had a lot of work left to finish. He heard Chris shift in his chair, then, almost as an apology:

“Then I’m sure it would do you good to take a couple days off. With Henry, I mean.”

“I don’t have time-“

“Alex, you’re exhausted. Law school’s hard enough, you’re putting in at least 30 hours a week here, when you’re not running off to some event that mandates your presence-

“That’s just part-“

“Which we both know means you’re not doing your best work. You’re running on fumes, man. You almost fell asleep in the last briefing. Take the end of the week, and when you come back you can attack everything with a clear head.”

Alex wasn’t sure he had heard him correctly; he was boiling with so much rage his ears were ringing. Wasn’t doing his best work? Alex put more effort in than practically anyone else in the department; Chris knew that. He wheeled his chair around slowly. “Not my best work?” he hissed through clenched teeth.

Chris seemed to realize he had gone too far. “You know what I-“

“You think, just because you’re older than me, you can come in here and give me shit advice on how to handle my life? Go ask Rafael Luna how that worked out for him.”

“Alex-“

The pressure around Alex’s chest was getting tighter, as if someone had grabbed his lungs and were slowly squeezing them, depriving him of air. “You have no idea the amount of pressure I’m under. “And we don’t have that much time –“ Alex gestures to the files – “these kids. I can’t just leave them. I have to help them. I have to do something.” To his horror, tears were starting to well up in his eyes. 

“I-“

“And the worst part is,” Alex continued, not even listening, “I thought you were one of the ones who was in it for the right reasons. I thought you really cared. But you’re just a power hungry political climber. I don’t know why I’m surprised.” Alex got to his feet suddenly, needing fresh air, needing to get out. But as he did so, a wave of dizziness washed over him, likely a product of his missed meals today, and Alex feels himself stumble forward, Chris catching him, his hands landing on Alex’s waist.

“Alex, whoah, hey, easy. I was serious about the no fainting thing.”

“’M fine,” Alex insists, trying to shake him off.

Chris moves his hands off Alex’s waist then, gripping Alex’s arms tightly. He makes sure Alex can handle sitting at his desk, that the rolling wheels don’t get out from under him. “Alex, you’re gonna help them. But you don’t have to help them all tonight. You can take these" – gesturing to the case files – "home with you even – I won’t tell anyone. But it’s 7:30, I’m starving, and I’m making sure you get home okay – don’t even try to argue with me-"

“It’s – what? 7:30? Shit. Shitshitshit.” Alex begins stuffing papers and files into his bag, muttering to himself. He tries to get up again but Chris stops him.

“Do you have a short term memory problem I don’t know about? Do you remember what happened when you just tried to stand up five seconds ago?”

“We’re celebrating Henry’s book tour. Tonight. At our apartment. With friends, and champagne, and - And I’m late. I promised Henry I wouldn’t lose track of time… which officially makes me the worst boyfriend ever.” Alex sighs, slumping in his chair, as he pulls out his phone to text Henry, to find, unsurprisingly, 2 missed calls from Henry, 6 texts from June, and, surprisingly, a text from Pez, reading, “Alex, please don’t be late. Not to this.” Alex’s face burns, and the hands around his lungs have been replaced by metal bands, squeezing ever tighter. Miserably, he types out a text to Henry: Got stuck at office. So sorry, baby. I’m so proud of you. On my way. I promise I’ll make this up to you.

“Considering how often you lose track of basic needs like eating and drinking, I’m sure Henry will understand.”

Alex doesn’t look at Chris. He doesn’t usually let people see him this vulnerable.

“Besides, you luckily have fancy Secret Service transportation at your disposal, so I’m sure we’ll be there in no time. Come on.” Chris puts his work bag over one shoulder, and Alex’s backpack over the other. “Jesus, Diaz, how many books do you have in here?”

“Only the books I would need to curate my own personal law library in the case of a government mandated lockdown.” Alex grins. “It never hurts to be prepared.”

“Just my back.” He offers Alex his arm to lean on, just as a text comes in from Henry: I love you. The bands around Alex’s chest relax slightly. Maybe everything will be okay after all.

\--

When they arrive at the brownstone, Chris insists on walking him to the door of his apartment, despite the fact that there’s an elevator and Cash is standing by. Alex is really too tired to argue, the dizziness hadn’t actually gone away. So he was only a little bit anxious as he goes to unlock the door, Chris standing close to the door, but no longer gripping Alex’s arm to make sure he doesn’t get dizzy again. Alex hopes he can just sneak in quickly and no one will see. He’s glad they had their own private celebration this morning – featuring the creative use of some flower petals in the bouquet Alex got for him, and this drawing. When Alex saw it, he knew it was perfect. There had been a lot of art inspired by their Waterloo Letters, but this one… This artist had actually drawn them in charcoal as Pyramus and Thisbe , had called it, “let’s change that history, huh?”. It was so poetic, so Henry, that Alex couldn’t resist. He’d gotten it framed, and had watched tears form in Henry’s eyes as Henry took in their love, smudged and enraptured in this frame.

“Do you hate it?” Alex asked anxiously.

Henry shook his head. “No,” he said, his eyes shining. “I love it. I love you.”

Henry had insisted they hang above the bed. It had been so perfect, and Alex wishes he could go back to that moment now, before he fucked everything up. Will Henry think he invited Chris to the party? But before he can even complete the thought, the door swings open, Henry standing there, laughing. Henry, his shirt unbuttoned slightly. Henry, laughing so hard his eyes crinkled. Henry, with a bit of white frosting smudged on his perfect upper lip. 

“Hey, love. I missed you.”

Alex is so relieved to see Henry looking happy that he feels his knees buckle, and he feels himself collapse into Henry’s chest. The bands around his chest tighten, and he feels tears prickle his eyes. “I’m so sorry, H,” he murmurs, nuzzling Henry’s neck. “I promised I would keep track of time. I totally messed this up.”

“I can have fun without you, you know. Are you okay?” Henry tries to pull Alex’s chin up, forcing Alex to look into his eyes, but Alex won’t let him. He hears Chris clear his throat behind him. He feels Henry stiffen.

“I, uh- it appears- Alex didn’t have anything to eat all day, and he got a bit- well he was a bit lightheaded, so I just wanted to make sure he got home alright. Here’s his bag.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

Alex tries to pull himself out of Henry’s arms to take the bag, but Henry won’t let him. Henry slings the bag over his shoulder.

“How much does this thing weigh? I thought you weren’t going to bring work home this weekend.”

Alex kisses Henry’s cheek. “I’m taking the end of the week off, so I needed some supplies. Besides, if anyone’s shoulders can handle it, it’s yours."

Henry smiles, then kisses him gently. “Fine. But I’m instituting mandatory meal breaks.”

Alex tugs on Henry’s belt loop. “I think breaks can be arranged.” 

Henry’s smile widens. He turns to Chris, who’s clearly waiting for his cue to leave. “Thank you for bringing him home, Chris. I appreciate it.”

“No problem. See you on Monday, Alex. Get some rest.”

Alex nods, then lets Henry lead him into the party. He feels himself start to relax, then he sees it all. The champagne. The desserts. How happy everyone is. He wants this to be perfect for Henry but – he feels like he’s choking. It’s becoming harder to swallow. Harder to take in air. How can he have all this – when so many people, just like him, have nothing? He’s supposed to be helping them, that’s what all this is good for, and instead he’s what? Wasting time on love? Alex forces back tears, and brushes off a sandwich Henry is offering him.

“I can feel the subway literally sticking to me. I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Okay…but don’t take too long…or I’ll have to come find you.”

Alex gives Henry a quick kiss, grabs his bag, and heads upstairs to their bedroom. Behind the safety of the closed door, he tried to get he’s breathing under control, but nothing’s working. He pulls out the files from his bag, the images stinging his eyes. He tosses them on the bed, pacing, overheated, and he barely manages to yank his clothes off with his shaking fingers. He turns on the shower, as hot as it can go. It’s almost scalding. He enjoys how it’s almost painful, pounding on his skin. And suddenly he’s sobbing, sobbing so hard he can’t stand, or breathe, or stop. The images of all the people the system has failed – that he has failed – washed up on the river bank play over and over in his head – as it gets harder and harder to breathe. His breath stabs him like sharp knives. He can’t breathe. Each breath tears into his chest. He just wants it to stop. He’s so hot. And so dizzy. And so tired. And he doesn’t know if it’s water or tears anymore, but he knows he’s hidden in here, that it’s safe.

This is how Pez finds him, thirty minutes later, collapsed in the shower. Now Alex just has to make sure he doesn’t tell Henry.


	2. Boys in Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pez finds Alex in the shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting! Work is keeping me crazy busy, but I am working on this when I can!
> 
> Comments and thoughts appreciated!

The first thing Alex remembered hearing, through his ringing ears, was whining. And a muffled scratching. David, he thinks. He must be trying to get into the bathroom. He remembered thinking he didn’t want David to be upset, he normally only got this way if Henry was having a bad day. It felt nice, he realized, to have someone be worried about him. Even if it was just a dog. The hot water continued to pound on him, relentlessly, and Alex began to feel like he was suffocating. But he – everything was wrong, he wasn’t attached to his own body, he was outside of himself somehow. He stared at a hand that couldn’t be his own. He closed his eyes. It was better this way, to just focus on the spinning inside of his head. 

All the sudden, the bathroom door busted open. Alex stared, his eyes not really seeing. He had definitely locked the door. Someone was shouting at him, but the voice wasn’t Henry’s. He felt David gently licking his toes, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. Then the water shut off. Alex gasped, as air rushed against his skin. It wasn’t that it was cold exactly. Everything was just so heavy. His head wouldn’t stop spinning.

“Alex, mate, are you alright? I know prepping that gorgeous hair of yours takes some effort but you’ve been in here for like 30 minutes. Even Henry was starting to get worried, and you know how long he takes to get ready.”

Pez. His words felt like they were coming from so far away. Why were his ears still ringing? Fuck. No one was supposed to see him like this. Especially not Pez, who had already made his feelings on how Alex had been screwing up the relationship plenty clear over the last few weeks. Today was about Henry. 

Alex tried to take a deep breath, get himself under control, but his chest was so tight, he couldn’t get air in, he was trying too hard to breathe, goddammit. He pressed his hands hard over his eyes, until it hurt, and felt himself curl in shame under the weight of Pez’ gaze, unable to do anything else. Pez should just go back to the party. Alex would be there soon, his mega watt smile in tow. He just needed one minute to himself, and he would be fine.

“Let’s get you a towel,” Pez says softly. “You may have a sculpted bod, but hell hath no fury like a June who knows I was checking out her baby bro.”

It all just sounds like a faint buzzing to Alex. He wonders when Pez is going to leave and get Henry, and as much as he loves that man, Henry is the last person Alex wants to see right now. Those deep blue eyes, filled with concern, and guilt. He knows Henry will somehow blame himself, think this was his fault, that he should have seen what was going on, or stopped Alex from spiraling. Alex didn’t want to tell him that he couldn’t help him. Not with this.

Then Alex feels something warm and soft, and Pez is gently drying Alex’s hair with a big, white, fluffy towel. Alex doesn’t want Pez to take care of him, but for once in his life, he can’t seem to make his mouth work. He pats Alex’s face with such tenderness that Alex can’t help but lean into it, hating himself for it. A part of him needs this. He gasps for air as Pez continues to wipe him dry, delicately moving the towel in circles down his shoulders and chest. There isn’t anything sexual about the way he touches Alex. His movements are filled with precision, making sure he doesn’t grab Alex too hard. He wraps the towel around Alex’s waist and knots it with care, and Alex feels what Henry always needed most from Pez: a steady undeniable presence, an “I’m safe with you” kind of love. But Alex doesn’t deserve this kindness from Pez, who should be downstairs, making Henry laugh and dragging June onto a makeshift dance floor. Tears escape from behind his lids and his bubble breaks: he can feel everything about to burst out of him. He doesn’t want Pez to see this.

“It’s okay, Alex. I’ve got you.” 

His voice is softer than Alex has maybe ever heard it. Or maybe that’s just because of the ringing, which won’t fucking stop. Alex’s breath hitches.

“I’m gonna pick you up and get you out of this shower, okay?”

Alex flinches away from Pez’ touch. Why won’t he just leave him here? Finally, he manages: “No, I don’t-“

“Alex, just shut up and let me help you.” Pez puts one arm around Alex’s back, bracing against his ribs, and the other under his knees. “Is this okay?”

Alex manages a nod. He just wants this to be over. He just wants his head to stop spinning.

“Okay.”

And all the sudden Pez is carrying Alex, almost cradling him into his chest, and it’s different than anything Alex has ever experienced before. Pez and Alex rarely spend any time together, just the two of them, he knows how much Pez means to Henry and how much he’s been there for him, but he and Pez aren’t exactly – close. But Pez is holding him like – he’s holding him like he’s strong enough to make this crushing weight go away. It’s too much. Alex is sobbing – wet, ugly crying – sobbing so hard his whole body is shaking. He can’t catch his breath and snot runs from his nose into his mouth.

“S-s-sorry”, he chokes out, hiccupping as his tears fill his mouth with the taste of salt.

“You don’t need to apologize.”

Pez lays Alex down on the bed, and Alex tries to sit up, but Pez stops him, firmly but gently. “Don’t make me go full mother hen on you.”

Alex doesn’t protest. He’s surprised to find tears still sliding down his cheeks, his breathing still uneven. He don’t understand why it won’t just stop. He can faintly hear Pez rummaging around, asking him something, and then he’s kneeling in front of him, holding Alex’s favorite sweatpants, boxers, and a soft cotton t-shirt.

“This isn’t a sex thing, I promise.” Pez smiles. “Henry and I have been through way worse, trust me.”

Alex really doesn’t want Pez to see him naked, but he doesn’t think he has a choice. He tries to help Pez with the underwear, but as soon as he sits up his head spins so hard Alex thinks he might vomit.

“Alexander Claremont-Diaz. You are not allowed to move until I get at least four of those ridiculously delicious sandwiches stuffed with turkey and cranberry just for you into your stomach. Now stop helping.”

Pez quickly shimmies Alex’s boxers up onto his waist without even lifting his towel. Alex is impressed. 

“This isn’t my first shower session,” Pez remarks dryly, tugging Alex into his t-shirt and sweatpants. “Now just stay still for five seconds while I run downstairs. I know that’s hard for you.”

Alex isn’t sure how much time passes, there’s a gentle thumping that has started to knock behind his ears, but eventually Pez returns, swaggering in with a plate stacked high with sandwiches and barbecue flavored chips, and a wine glass filled to the brim with what looked like champagne.

“I’m impressed. I expected to find you sprawled on the floor sporting a concussion.” He crawls onto the bed with Alex, carefully balancing the teetering plate. “Eat.”

Alex turns away from Pez. Even the smell of the food makes him nauseous. There’s a throbbing behind his eyes Alex is sure wasn’t there seconds ago. “Henry?” he whispers, his throat scratchy.

“Is downstairs, being entertained by his many admirers. I told him you had a migraine, but that I was making sure you were taking care of yourself, that you just needed some rest.”

Alex feels hot tears spill over his eyelids again. He can’t help but let out a gasp of relief. At least Henry didn’t have to see him like this. He can feel his shoulders start to shake again, he just hopes Pez won’t notice. “Thank you.”

“I’m not as nice as Henry though. I will force feed you if I have to.”

Alex attempts a laugh, but it comes out more like a mangled sob. He tries to count his breaths. In for three…. Then out for three… In for five…

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you last week. I didn’t realize-“ 

“It’s fine.”

“Henry just told me you were being distant. I – “

The pain behind Alex’s eyes intensifies. He can feel the rancid taste of bile creeping up his throat. 

“Pez - ”

“I saw the files, Alex. They were just lying open on the bed, I- ”

Without warning, Alex leans over and retches into their trashcan. He realizes distantly that the files aren’t on the bed now, Pez must have put them away. There’s nothing but bile in his mouth, his stomach empty, but he convulses again and again, as he sees the pictures flash behind his eyes.

“Alex, breathe.”

He doesn’t realize how hard he’s sobbing until he hears Pez’s voice, so far away. Alex is gasping for air, spitting up bile and snot and tears, and he can’t get enough of it.

“I can’t- “

“Yes, you can. You can." 

“Pez- “

“Breathe with me, Alex. There you go. Breathe with me. That’s it. Nice and slow.”

And he follows the movement of Pez’s chest, listens to his voice, because his chest feels like it’s on fire, and he just doesn’t want to feel this way anymore.

When it’s over, finally, the first thing he feels is Pez stroking his hair. Not like Henry. Cautiously. But it makes Alex want to shatter into a million pieces. Pez tears off little bits of sandwich and feeds Alex like he’s a baby bird. Alex didn’t want the food, but he lets Pez feed him anyway. Pez even gives him small sips of champagne out of his glass, and the warm bubbles begin to soothe the emptiness inside Alex’s chest.

“We forget, sometimes,” Pez says softly, “how hard all this is. To be a part of this world. When you look like one of us.”

Alex listens to Pez’ breath swish in and out, dazedly. Pez, who always seemed to make his own rules. Alex had no idea. 

“And Henry, he tries, but when you look like a Greek god and come from British royalty, well – it’s a different kind of isolation.”

Alex nods.

“But that’s why we do what we do. Maybe one day the world will suck a little less.” He pauses, searching for the right words.

“And until you’re ready to talk to him, I’m here. When you need it.”

Alex squeezes Pez’ arm, too tired to say anything, but he feels relief overwhelm him, and the bands around his chest give way. Just a little. They lie there together, in silence, David eventually finding his way to his favorite spot in the crook of Alex’s waist. Just as exhaustion begins to prick Alex’s eyelids, Henry appears, and he chuckles at the sight of them.

“My three favorite boys in bed together. Should I be jealous?”

Pez laughs as he gets out of bed. “With a mattress this big, there’s room for a fourth.” Pez pulls Henry to the doorway, and Alex can hear some talk of “work”, “exhaustion”, “stress”. 

The mattress dips again, but this time it’s Henry pulling Alex into his arms, and Alex feels tears spill over, only to be kissed away before they could even trace down his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry. I ruined your day.” 

“You didn’t ruin anything, love. You could never ruin anything.” Henry runs his fingers through Alex’s hair, and Alex shivers. “How’s your head?”

“Hurts,” Alex admits. He buries his head into Henry’s chest, wanting nothing more than to stay there forever, wrapped in Henry’s sweetness, blocking out the pain, blocking out everything.

Henry wraps his arms around Alex tighter, almost as if he was trying to envelop Alex’s whole body with his. “I’ve got you, love. I’ve got you.”

Eventually, the racing in his mind eases, and Alex slowly drifts off to sleep, encased in the safety of Henry’s arms. But Henry finds himself lying awake, unable to sleep as he stares at the tear tracks caked on Alex’s sleeping face, wracking his brain to figure out what he did to cause this.


	3. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex tries to make it up to Henry.

Alex edged back into consciousness at around 6. He slept better when Henry was home, he really did, but even tucked inside Henry’s arms, sometimes he was only able to stay just inside the edge of sleep, something always tugging at him, yanking him back to reality. 

He had had - the dream. It only happened when he was stressed, usually. It had been happening more and more lately, which Alex tried not to think about. Not even Henry knew about it. He’d maybe told June, after a really bad night. Alex couldn’t really remember. It’d been going on for years, since before he met Henry, and – the man, in his dream, he always seemed so nice at first. So inviting. Alex could never remember, never see his face exactly. He just knew it wasn’t Henry. But then Alex wanted to get out, he wanted to get up, but the man was suffocating him, and Alex just couldn’t breathe, he needed to get out-

Which is when he woke, gasping for air and covered in sweat. Henry, thankfully, stayed softly asleep. It was as if, even in his dreams, Henry could feel the change in Alex’s breathing, and he pulled Alex closer, wrapping Alex into his chest. Inviting him to his place of quiet. A place Alex could not go, no matter how hard he tried. The buzzing that started in Alex’s toes, burning its way through his entire body to the fire in his brain, was already filling him up, insisting he be productive, always whispering he needed to be doing more.

But he lay there for one more moment, watching Henry sleep. It was somehow the most intimate thing a couple could share, Alex thought, the trust of seeing one another at their most bare. The white morning light played across Henry’s hair and Alex marveled, not for the first time, at how lucky he was. That this beautiful, sensitive, generous man chose to be his every day. He traced his finger gently down the side of Henry’s face, as he thought of all Henry had to endure growing up. How he just wanted to see Henry smile every day. To be there on the days he couldn’t bear to get out of bed. Alex worried that when Henry decided Alex was forever, too, maybe he hadn’t really known just what he was getting into. He pressed a kiss to Henry’s forehead, and eased his way out of bed, careful not to disturb Henry. He’d get some work done, cook Henry breakfast. David followed him downstairs happily, hoping for an early morning walk. This weekend was going to be good. He’d make sure of it. But first, coffee.

\--

It had taken Henry hours to fall asleep. The look on Alex’s face when Henry had finally been able to hold him – it made Henry want to shatter into a million pieces. He looked so – fragile. Alex isn’t fragile. Alexander Claremont-Diaz is bold and bright and beautiful and shines like the fucking sun. But now Henry just wants to shelter that light, keep it safe. Henry knows Alex’s tendency to burn out, to work too hard, he knows these past few months have put extra pressure on him, especially with Henry’s book tour. Henry had even – Henry had even asked Chris to keep an eye on him, to make sure he was eating. But it hadn’t been enough. Alex was always there when Henry needed him, he always got Henry through his dark days. And now- 

Alex’s whole body had trembled beneath Henry’s gentle fingers, breaths cutting their way out of Alex’s chest as he tried to hide his panic from Henry. Henry tried to rub soothing circles into the small of his back, god his shoulders were tight, to tell him that it was okay, he could just be. He didn’t need to hide himself. Henry could take it. They were safe here, in the dark, just the two of them, Alex was safe. But that just seemed to make Alex shake even harder, his tears soaking through Henry’s t-shirt, and Henry had never felt so useless. He knew Pez hadn’t been entirely honest with him earlier, and all Henry could think is that he had been gone too long, that this had all gotten too much for Alex, and he hadn’t been here to catch him. After everything Alex had done for him. So Henry just held him as tightly as he could, wishing he could absorb Alex’s pain into his own body, until eventually, Alex’s breaths began to steady. The shaking stayed long after he fell asleep, quiet tremors racing their way up and down Alex’s skin, and Henry just stroked Alex’s hair, aching to take the tension out of him.

When Henry woke, the other side of the bed was cold. He’d be lying to himself if that didn’t happen more often than not, Alex too eager to start the day. Even David had been getting into the routine, going on long walks with Alex in the early morning. Henry could smell chilaquiles wafting from the kitchen – one of his favorites – even if he always argued with Alex that chips didn’t count as a breakfast food. He sighed, checking his phone. It was only 8:30. How long had Alex been up already? There was a text from Pez: _Everything go okay last night?_  
Henry frowned. He knew Pez was never able to hide things from him for long, and he almost asked Pez what had happened, why Alex was so upset. Did it have anything to do with Chris? But after a royally trained deep breath, he restrained himself. Alex would tell him when he was ready. _Yeah. Thank you. For everything._

 _Anything for my favorite couple ☺._

Henry throws on his favorite Alex-only weekend lounge wear and heads downstairs to the kitchen. The moment he enters, he can tell something is wrong. Alex’s energy feels frantic and scattered, almost pulsing. The table is set for a breakfast, adorned with a bouquet of lilies – Henry’s favorite, Alex must have gone out to the florist this morning…how long has he been awake? – the food is sizzling on the stove, David is happily eating his breakfast, ignoring Henry completely, and there is a mess of files on the counter, probably something Alex is working for his mom.  
But Alex is standing in the middle of it all, his back to Henry, completely frozen, as if he is rooted to the spot. Henry doesn’t think he’s ever seen Alex so still.

“Love?” Henry asks hesitantly. Alex doesn’t respond. Henry has seen him get lost in his work before, but this…this is something different.

Henry takes a step into the kitchen. “Alex,” he calls, a little louder this time, hoping to snap him out of it. Still nothing.

Henry is more than a little worried now. He crosses the rest of the way to Alex. “Alexander,” he whispers, putting a hand gently on Alex’s waist. It’s as if Henry slapped him. Alex spins around with a gasp, his eyes wide and frantic even after they land on Henry’s.

“Hey, hey, you okay?”

“Henry, baby, hi.” 

Henry has both hands on Alex’s waist now, steadying him, and Alex leans in to kiss him, softly at first, then with more urgency. 

“Alex-“

“Don’t talk.”

The sweetness of Alex’s lips calms Henry as he tastes coffee, and the musk of Alex’s sweat. Alex’s hands climb up Henry’s back and pull Henry into Alex, tugging at the hair at the base of Henry’s neck. Henry lets out a soft moan and Alex bites his bottom lip, gently, pushing his tongue inside Henry’s mouth, opening him deeper. Alex kisses the tip of Henry’s nose, and around Henry’s eyes, and down the line of Henry’s cheekbones, and Henry can feel himself melting into Alex. He had been worried about something, but for the life of him, he can’t remember what. Alex’s mouth moves down to sculpt the line of Henry’s jaw, teeth scraping stubble, nibbling the lobe of Henry’s ear. Henry moaned again, keening now, opening to Alex, begging him for more. Alex jammed his leg in between Henry’s thighs and spun them so they slammed against the table, his hands yanking at Henry’s hair and opening Henry’s neck to his mouth.

Henry cries out, his hips rutting up against Alex’s leg. Alex’s tongue worked its way over Henry’s neck and Henry panted, his hips jutting faster, desperate to get more friction, desperate to get closer to him.

“Does that feel good, baby?” Alex murmured.

“Alex, I-“

“Shhh, don’t worry. This is just an appetizer. I’m going to clean you up later. Now come for me, _cariño_.”

With that, Alex bites down hard on Henry’s neck, and the release is so sudden that Henry comes, violently, rutting against Alex, Alex riding him through the orgasm with his tongue practically down Henry’s throat, finally sticking his hand down Henry’s pants to keep him on the top of the climax for as long as he can, Henry is so utterly intoxicated and blissed out that he sees white, and he can barely stand. He just knows that Alex is holding him, keeping him standing. Still.

Finally, Alex sits him down at the table. “Now you’re going to stay like that,” he smirks, “until I say so.” He goes to wash his hands in the sink and plate their breakfast, arranging the food like he's a chef at a fancy restaurant.

Henry has no problem with this plan. 

“Alex, love, that was, wow, but– what was all that for?

“I’m not allowed to have hot morning sex with my beautiful boyfriend?”

It was so abrupt, so confident, so Alex, that Henry smiles to himself. Maybe he's just overthinking things. But then he sees the tremor in Alex’s hands as he attempts to pour the salsa, spilling on the counter.

“Dammitdammitdammit-“

Henry moves to get up from the table. “Alex, let me- “

“No, please, baby, just- “ Alex sighs, running a hand through his hair. He looks almost – shy. “I want to make up for yesterday.”

“Alex, there’s nothing-“

“But I want to. Please.”

So Henry nods. He’s never one to deny Alex anything, really. He watches Alex pick up the plates, and follows him slowly into the bedroom. He lets Alex lay him out on the bed, gently, and to his astonishment, Alex begins to feed him. Softly. Gently. Wiping his mouth delicately. Only later does Henry realize that Alex didn't eat anything at all. 

“I want to give you everything. _Eres mi todo_ ,” Alex whispers.

Henry is filled with overwhelming love for the man before him, whose eyes are filled with such brightness it could consume him. 

Kisses are traded for bites of food, salsa is traced down the lines of Henry’s body with Alex’s artful fingers, only to be washed away but his pulsing, hot tongue. Alex does clean him up, long and slow, taking his time, making sure every inch of Henry is licked clean, before he works Henry into a writhing, whimpering mess underneath him. Only when Henry begs does Alex finally give in to him, fucking him hard, his hand working in time with his thrusts, Henry’s body exploding with pleasure at every orifice because of _Alex. Alex. Alex._ Henry comes with Alex’s name on his lips just as Alex spills inside him, and they end up tangled together, all limbs and sweat and love. This time, it's Henry who falls asleep in Alex’s arms, Alex stroking Henry’s sweaty hair back from his forehead as Henry cuddles into Alex’s chest.

When Henry wakes, the afternoon sun is making shadows across the bed. How long had he been asleep? He rolls to the side. No Alex. He finds a note tucked on their nightstand:  
_Had to run back in to the office. Minor fire to be put out. I’ll be home before you read this, hopefully. Descansa bien, mi amor. Alex_

Henry stares at the note as he thinks over the last twenty four hours. Most days he would be fine with Alex putting his career over their personal life. But right now – something just...wasn't right. Henry grabs his jacket, slamming the door on his way out. This better be one big fire, or he would personally be putting Alex under house arrest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is more of a slow burn than I was anticipating, things will be revealed soon!


	4. Running Hot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collision of sorts occurs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay in posting! I have a huge deadline coming up next week, so have been very busy working on rewrites for that, it's been taking up way more time than I anticipated and will be running my life until next week, but I appreciate your patience! Comments and kudos as always appreciated! I promise I am seeing your thoughts and incorporating them for later on! Sending love and support to everyone in this difficult time, as Dan Radcliffe said today 'love is the strongest force of all'. x

Alex practically vibrated with frustration as the subway took him out of Manhattan. He knew, logically, that when Chris called to confirm one of the details of the case files Alex currently had in his briefcase, Chris wasn’t technically inviting him to come into the office. But they had their next briefing on Wednesday – the President may even make a quick appearance - and they needed concrete progress. So he figured it wouldn’t hurt to just run down and check in. The hour into Manhattan. But when he’d gotten there, Chris had unequivocally refused to even let him into the building, no matter how many presidential level threats Alex yelled through the phone. Apparently, Chris had called his mother, and she’d more than agreed Alex needed a weekend off. 

Alex had also tried to call his mom, but Zahra but picked up instead. 

“Your mother is about to head into a nuclear arms meeting with Russian diplomats, and absolutely does not have time to deal with whatever media disaster you’re about to create by trying to break in to your own office.”

Alex wanted to scream. He just needed to do something. It was as if Zahra could hear his anxiety pinging through the phone. Her voice softened. 

“I’m sending Shaan over with an absurdly expensive bottle of tequila and your favorite food cart tamales. Try to relax a little. Those bags under your eyes won’t go away by themselves.”

Alex sighed, leaning his head against the wall of the subway car, the vibrating of the rattling machine matching his own restless energy. He wondered, vaguely, when putting concealer under his eyes had become an every day habit. He should’ve known Zahra would notice. He wondered if Henry had.

He tried to swallow the guilt that rose up in his throat at the thought of Henry waking up alone, not knowing where he had gone. Alex knew how much Henry hated it, a reminder of the many months where there were only stolen nights and an ocean between them. Alex had tried to fall asleep, willed himself to match Henry’s even breaths, or even just for his brain to quiet, so he could lie there and enjoy lightly running his fingertips up and down Henry’s bare back, ever so gently, a touch too light to wake Henry from his blissful sleep. But the longer he lay there, the more the tightness in his chest returned, as his brain reminded him over and over again on a loop everything he should be doing. Even Henry, the warm weight of his arm around Alex’s waist, started to feel suffocating, as he lay there, sweating, silence pressing in on him from all sides. When his phone vibrated, he leapt to grab it, not wanting to wake Henry, but everywhere was too quiet. Alex felt like he might shatter something just by the sound of his breathing. It was as if the apartment itself was sleeping, and Alex would be better off leaving them to rest. So he went, the still chilly March air cutting into his cheeks, the hum of New York City bustle matching Alex’s purposeful stride. The city that never sleeps understood him, wouldn’t judge him for his constant need to keep moving.

But in the crammed subway car, people jostling him from all sides, Alex feels his panic start grow. He isn’t usually allowed on the subway for security reasons, but- the last thing Alex wanted was to be stuck in a car today, and sometimes Cash makes exceptions. His security team surrounds him on all sides, but there are just too many people, and Alex needs to get out. 

When they finally make into open air, Alex is breathing hard. He sees a text come in from Chris: _This is for your own good, you know._

Alex tries not to throw his phone into the nearest trash can. Instead, he turns to Cash. “We’re only about a mile from the brownstone. Okay if I run the rest of the way?”

Cash doesn’t love this plan, Alex can tell, but he seems to know this is what Alex needs. Alex waits anxiously for approved security clearance, feeling like ants are crawling all over his skin. He just needs a way to make his mind stop spinning, and he’d thought – but even sex with Henry had only made it stop for just a little while. He shifts from foot to foot, unable to control himself. He glances over at Cash, who's still deep in discussion on his phone, probably about the security of Alex’s travel path. It’s on days like these when Alex wonders what his life would be like as a normal person, with no one to tell him what to do or where to go. Sighing, he digs his phone back out from his pocket and calls June, but gets her voicemail. She’s probably still working, it’s what you should be doing right now, Alex reminds himself. He stares at his phone, and after a long moment of hesitation, dials Pez. He sits through four, long rings, feeling stupid. They don’t call each other. He hangs up quickly before it goes to voicemail. He considers calling Nora, just to complete his trifecta of embarrassment, but he feels Cash tapping him on the shoulder. 

“We’re good to go.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. I could use the exercise.” Cash squeezes Alex shoulder comfortingly, and Alex leans into Cash’s reassuring strength, letting it ground him. Popping in his earbuds and turning up his music as loud as it can go without damaging his eardrums, Alex takes off, practically sprinting. He lets the music pound into his ears, not stopping as his feels his heartbeat begin to thrum in his forehead. He focuses on how hard he can push his feet into the pavement, urging himself faster as a new ache blooms in his chest and his muscles tremble with the effort. If he runs fast enough, focusing on the sickening throbbing forming inside of his head, he can just escape the whispers chasing after him. He can. He can make it loud enough to drown out everything else. By the time Alex is two blocks from the brownstone he’s gasping for air, his arms and legs filled with fiery lactic acid, but Alex signals to Cash, signaling he wants to do a loop around before heading home.

“Maybe we should-“, he hears from behind him, as Cash grabs his shoulder, but Alex shakes him off, gritting his teeth as he tries to force his body to move faster. The back of his neck prickles – he can feel his nightmares chasing him – they’re still behind him and if he can just keep running-

Alex phone vibrates. He lets the call ring through, he’ll deal with it later. A minute later, it vibrates again, seemingly more insistently this time. Groaning, Alex’s sees “Auntie Pezza” flash across the screen. Knowing Pez will just keep calling unless he answers, Alex picks up the phone, gasping for air as he skids to a halt.

“Wh-What?”

“Alex? Are you okay?” Pez sounds uncharacteristically worried on the other end of the line.

“Just going- just going for a run”, Alex wheezes. Somehow, his whole body hurt.

“You sound really out of breath.”

“Well, Pez, you may not know this, but believe it or not that’s what happens when you exercise”, Alex says, finally getting enough air into his lungs as he gratefully accepts a bottle of water from Cash.

Pez chuckles, sounding a little less anxious. “I’ll have you know Henry has never been able to beat me a wrestling match, so I’d certainly like to see you try.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“That depends. You gonna tell me what’s going on?”

Alex paused. He blew out a breath slowly. “Nothing, really… Just trying to clear my head.”

“Mmhm.” Pez sounded less than convinced. Alex toes his shoe in the dirt. “Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do. Nora, June and I are gonna come over later, we’ll bring a couple bottles of wine, help you and H relax.”

“Pez-“

“Zahra already called June. I know she’s sending over food and ridiculously expensive tequila, and it would just be rude not to share. Or would you rather avoid talking to Henry about your feelings all night?”

“Fine,” Alex mumbled, running his hand through his hair.

“I’ll call H and tell him. We’ll be there at 7. Dress cute.”

Alex groaned, wanting nothing more than to put on Henry’s old ratty joggers and his not-so-secret glasses.

“Dress how you want to feel. It’s the secret to my success.” Alex smiled slightly, thinking of all the outrageous outfits he’d seen Pez wear over the years.

“Pez?”

“Mm?”

“Thanks.”

Hanging up, Alex tries to shake off his guilt as he picks up the pace. He knows he needs to tell Henry something, but he didn’t know what was going on, really. His anxiety had always been – manageable – if anything, it was part of the reason he was so motivated. This is…something else. Like his world has been shifted slightly off its axis. He just wants his head to stop feeling so overcrowded, for one minute. Alex runs faster, air burning as it enters his chest, his muscles screaming in protest, as sweat runs down forehead and into his eyes, blurring his vision. But in the throbbing and the pounding and the fighting for air and the feeling of the ground slamming into his feet, for one moment, Alex doesn’t think about anything at all. He doesn’t know if it is too much or not enough but all the sudden the volume is lower, and Alex feels like his chest might burst.

Until he collides headfirst with someone, the force strong enough to knock Alex’s breath out from him. Dimly he hears the man – he assumes it’s a man because damn they have some shoulder muscles - exclaim _“What the fuck is wrong with you?_ , as Alex tries to grab onto the man’s t-shirt and push him upright, to stop him from falling with Alex. This only succeeds in entangling their legs further, and as gravity and Alex’s unfortunate still forward moving velocity take over, Alex’s legs skid across the pavement as they fall, seemingly in slow motion now, until the man lands on top of him hard, forcing any remaining air out of his lungs with a thud. Alex’s ears are ringing and now his chest really hurts, but it’s a different kind of stabbing pain because as hard as he tries to physically force air into his lungs his chest just doesn’t want to seem to move and all he can think is that maybe he won’t ever breathe again and won’t that just be some absurd karma from the universe and god his leg is throbbing and –

“Alex?”

Concerned blue eyes slowly come into focus.

“Henry,” Alex groans. “Hi, baby.”

“What the hell were you doing?”

“Running. What are you doing?”

“I was coming to find you.“

“Well, you found me.”

“You know, you two really need to stop meeting up like this,” Cash adds, as he stands over them, eyes twinkling.

“Not helpful, Cash,” Alex says, laughing.

“Alex, your leg-“

“It’s fine, it’s just a scrape.”

“I can get him fixed up if you help me get him inside,” Cash says, looking over at Henry.

Cash almost insists on carrying him but Alex refuses to even get off the ground at that thought, so instead he’s supported by both Henry and Cash as they get inside the brownstone, even though Alex insists he could’ve walked on his own. He impatiently lets Cash attend to his leg while Henry makes him something to eat. 

“Zahra is sending Shaan over soon with some…supplies,” Cash says, once he’s finished Alex’s bandage and is on his way out. He turns to Henry. “Let me know if you need me to wrap the bandage again, since he clearly won’t.”

“I will, Cash, thank you.”

“You’re a traitor, Cash!”, Alex calls after him, and he could swear he sees Cash wink at him just before he turns to head out the door. Honestly. Henry had them all wrapped around his little finger.

Henry sets a grilled cheese in front of him and then joins him on the couch. Between them, Alex’s leg continues to shake, bouncing up and down no matter how hard Alex tries to press it into the floor. Even the weight of Henry’s gaze can’t crush this feeling that’s eating him up inside, and Alex feels his eyes fill with tears. Henry deserves someone who can be with him, fully present with him, not _this_ , and it’s like there’s some broken piece of him that’s tucked away so deep inside of himself Alex can’t even reach it anymore. Alex can sense how badly Henry wants to touch him: caress his face, run a hand through his curls, pepper soft kisses down his jawline, but Alex can’t bear it. Not right now. And Henry knows. He knows, and he looks at Alex with all the love in the world, and it just makes Alex want to curl up in shame.

“Please, eat, love.” Henry still hasn’t moved, he hasn’t so much as touched the plate, as if Alex is a frightened animal he might scare away.

“Zahra’s sending over food for later,” Alex mumbles, not meeting Henry’s eyes.

“I know. Pez told me. But you haven’t eaten anything and you just went for a run and you lost blood.”

“It’s only a flesh wound.”

“Alex, sweetheart.”

Alex doesn’t know how to tell Henry that the thought of eating alone makes him sick to his stomach. He knows Henry is right, he should eat, it’s just – food for Alex always came only once he had finished something, and if he hadn’t, then, he didn’t deserve to eat yet. And today, what had he done other than be kicked out of his office and worry his boyfriend? There were so many people who didn’t have enough to eat, the same people often who worked to pick and provide the food for everyone else, and here he and Henry were, with options and resources and money at their fingertips, and Alex had done nothing.

Alex realizes he’s been sitting, quietly shaking, for far too long.

“Alex, please help me understand what’s going on with you. I hate seeing you like this.”

Alex can barely look at him. Henry will know that Alex is hiding and running, but the truth will hurt him more. It’s better this way.

“I need to shower. They’ll be here soon,” Alex whispers.

“You need to eat.” Henry’s tone brooks no argument. 

Alex grabs half of the sandwich, and tries to eat it as quickly as he can, force it past the disgust roiling inside him. As he gets up to go shower, Henry grabs his wrist. His touch is gentle, but Alex reacts as if he’s been shocked.

“Please talk to me.”

Alex looks back at him, trying not to let Henry see how much this is tearing him apart.

“I – I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, H.”

Henry is left with the image of those brown eyes he loves more than anything burning into him. He can’t take it anymore. If Alex is in pain, he needs to fix it. It’s time to talk to Pez.


	5. Reddened Cheeks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex has a realization.
> 
> CW: Sexual Trauma. Take care, and know you are loved!

For as long as Henry could remember, he’d watched Alex. Since Rio. There was something – undeniable about him, and Henry couldn’t help it. His eyes always found a way back to Alex, back to his brightness that Henry longed to soak into his skin.

And now, still, Henry watches Alex. He watches as Alex takes too long in the shower. He watches as Alex’s eyes dart away from his, as if looking into Henry’s eyes makes Alex feel a stabbing pain. He watches as Alex melts into Pez’ embrace, as his hands for a moment, settle in their shaking.

And Henry feels like he’s drowning. Because whatever’s going on, Alex has shut him out, he can’t fix it, and he’s not sure how much more of this he can take.

“Henry!” June and Nora burst in, filling the apartment with their customary air of mischievous fun. “Who’s ready for shots?”

Henry looks over and sees Nora pouring tequila straight into Alex’s mouth. But for the first time in a long time, he looks lighter. Maybe a little fun is just what they need. He feels a comforting warmth press up against him. June.

“How is he?”, she asks, looking into his eyes, reminding Henry for the first time that he isn’t alone in all of this. Her deep brown eyes, so like Alex’s, endlessly search his, and Henry doesn’t know how to tell her that he feels like he’s failing. That Alex might be slipping away.

She squeezes his hand comfortingly. “It’s going to be okay. Let’s go get some tequila before Alex and Nora drink it all.”

Henry finds himself wrapped in the warmth of alcohol, cocooned away from his feelings, in a few shots too many. His feet are dangling off the couch, David is sleeping on his stomach, and he’s oblivious to June and Nora scheming next to him. He watches, as if in a dream, Alex and Pez from across the room. Alex and Pez arguing over a tamale. Pez feeding it to him in tiny bites as Alex laughs it off, even though Henry knows it’s the first thing he’s eaten all night. Pez is able to get Alex to eat, and Henry…he opens his mouth to say something, but Nora beats him to it. 

“Who’s ready for ‘Never Have I Ever'?"

\--

Alex loves tequila. He loves the way it tips him just over the edge, just enough to make him numb. The room spins lazily around him as Pez attempts to shove a tamale in his mouth.

“You need carbs.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“You can some of my marg if you eat.”

“He tried to talked to me earlier and I ran away. I’m such a fucking coward.” 

Alex feels everything the tequila has temporarily buried come bubbling back up, and suddenly Alex desperately wants to cry.

“How can he love me when he doesn’t even know – “ A piece of tamale is shoved into his mouth, abruptly cutting him off.

“You chew and I’ll talk.” 

Alex knows he needs to eat, he can feel the food settling the sour feeling in his stomach, but he hates the aftertaste. The guilt chasing it down. The ‘you don’t deserve it’ whispering in his ear. He’s just so tired.

“Alex.” 

Pez tilts his chin up, so Alex is forced to look at him as he puts another piece of tamale between Alex's lips. 

“You were the one who taught Henry how to love again. How to stand up and fight for himself, and for the people he cares about. He’s not gonna give up on you. Your ass is too hot. I know, I’ve seen it.”

Alex laughs, really laughs, letting it fill him all the way up for just a moment.

“He’ll be there when you’re ready.”

“What if I’m never ready?” 

And all the sudden it’s there. Out loud. A physical, tangible truth that exists between them. The possibility that keeps Alex up at night. That he might never be ready, might never be able to give Henry what he deserves…and that Henry would be better off if –

“Who’s ready for 'Never Have I Ever'?”

\--

Alex is losing his grip on control. He can feel it, even though he is clinging to everything inside of himself with all his might. The room swerves around him aggressively now, mocking his inability to know which way is up. Voices around him are too loud, too bright. He mindlessly downs shot after shot, playing a game with himself now, trying to hold himself together. If he could wrap his hands around his middle to keep the messiness from oozing out of every pore, he would, but instead, he sways in his seat, sweating.

He can feel Henry’s eyes on him. Feel Henry’s concern. In the way he subtly pushes water towards him, reminding Alex that he is there, that there’s another way out, cool and safe. If only Alex could take it. Instead, he focuses on the feeling of Pez’ hand on his shoulder, trying to remember to plaster a smile on at the right time. As if the room isn’t bearing down on him, waiting for Alex to crack open.

“Alex?”

Alex blinks. Nora, looking at him expectantly. All eyes are trained on him, awaiting something. His heart throbs in his chest, roaring in his ears, and Alex wonders for a moment how no one else can hear it. Instead, he clears his throat, trying to push past the tightening pressure building there.

“Yeah?”

“I know you and Henry are members of the mile-high club.”

“Oh. Right. Cheers,” he says, smiling weakly as he tosses back a shot.

“Alright! Your turn. Give us something juicy,” Pez laughs, clapping Alex on the back. 

Alex’s mind goes blank. It's as if they are in the room and he, somehow, is not. There is no way this is real, that this is really happening to him, that he's really here. But he can feel June looking at him with growing concern, and in that moment, he reaches desperately. Brown eyes meet blue. Henry.

“Uh… never have I ever…bottomed, I guess.”

“Time to live a little, darling,” Pez exclaims, as he, Henry, and Nora toss back a shot. June, however, looks startled. 

“June, I think you owe us a shot,” Pez says, laughing.

June’s eyes don’t leave Alex’s. “Alex?,” she asks, her voice uncertain, fragile, hesitant. As if she’s…afraid.

“What,” Alex responds, but he’s not looking at June. He’s not looking at anything anymore.

This morning, in the kitchen, it had felt like he was choking on something. Everything crashing over him all at once, and Alex was lost in the waves. Too afraid to move, too afraid to breathe. Until Henry found him.

Now, as he stares at nothing, his mind skipping again and again over a broken piece, something Alex can’t remember, something that isn’t quite right, something that isn’t there, the words running on loop “never have I ever…bottomed…I guess” where Alex can feel them rattling in his skull but he doesn’t know why, all he does know is June’s eyes are burning a hole into his forehead and an icy cold drips into his chest. It starts as a trickle, but as Alex sits there, trapped in the echo, the cold envelops his lungs and Alex’s whole chest hurts. The words bouncing inside his skull at such a sickening pace that they become a hard, brutal throbbing. Alex suddenly feels like his entire body is being strangled in a vicious grip by the air around him. He can’t – Henry – he needs to – it can’t happen here.

He attempts to free his limbs from being pulled down into the mud he’s slowly sinking into and somehow manages to stand, hearing himself say, “Just going to run to the bathroom”, because he’s not really hearing or seeing anymore, his whole body is inside the thrum of the echo, and it isn’t until he hears the click of the door and his cheek against the cool tile that Alex knows he is safe. Then Alex lets the darkness drag him away, sinking down into the mud. 

\--

The living room is dead silent. June looks scared, Nora looks concerned, and Henry looks furious. Pez breaks the silence first.

“I think-, “ but Henry cuts him off.

“What the bloody hell was that about?” Pez knows Henry doesn’t get angry easily, and right now he looks like he could start throwing things.

“I just –,“ June starts. “It’s because – “. But the rest of the words die in her throat. She looks at Henry, pleading with him to understand.

“And that’s not important right now,” Pez cuts in firmly.

“What do you mean it’s not important right now? Did you see him? He looked….” 

Henry didn’t need to finish, because they all saw. How something in Alex had shattered, hidden somewhere.

“It happened this morning too, he just – “ Henry broke off with a slight sob. “I need to go talk to him.”

“Hen…I think maybe…why don’t you help June and Nora clean up, and I’ll check on Alex.”

Henry sits there, looking slightly stunned by Pez’ refusal. “I think that’s a good idea,” Nora says, quickly taking charge. “Come on, Hen, it’ll be quick work between the three of us.”

Not chancing another look at Henry, Pez quickly heads upstairs. When he reaches the landing, someone tugs him back. It’s Henry. He looks…destroyed. Pez hasn’t seen him this bad since…

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Henry…”

“I know you know something. Please. I just – I want to help.”

“I know you do. But he has to let you in when he’s ready.”

Pez tugs Henry into a hug, and he feels Henry let out a strangled sob against his chest. 

“Is it me?”

“No, Henry. You know it wouldn’t – “

“I know, I know, it’s just… I hate that he’s hiding things from me.”

“He loves you. Come on, why don’t you come with me?”

But to Pez’ surprise, they find the bathroom door ajar. The towels mussed, the shower wet, as if it has been recently on. But no Alex.

Instead, they find him on the floor of the bedroom, in a mock fetal position, his hair wet, his back pressed against the nightstand. He looks at them hovering in the doorway. His eyes only partially focused on them standing there.

“Henry,” he says, so very quietly, as if the slightest sound might cause everything to shatter. Pez nods, and Henry steps inside, Pez shutting the door behind him. He rests his head on the door for just a moment, wishing he could know what was going on inside. 

\--

Alex isn’t sure how he got from the bathroom to the bedroom. He remembers the feeling of the cool, smooth tile, and then dull, throbbing water against his back, and then the feeling of the nightstand digging into him, hurting just enough, reminding him where he is. He knows something’s wrong. Wrong with him. Which is why he needs to keep himself away, to make sure it doesn’t hurt Henry or anyone else. Because his head is still swimming and the room is still spinning but all Alex can feel is this suffocating pressure, and Alex wants to get out but he can’t. There’s this prickling on his neck that makes Alex wants to scratch his skin off. So he sits there, pressing his back that much harder into the nightstand, because the pain gives him something else to feel. 

And then he sees him. His beautiful, gorgeous Henry, and Alex just wants Henry to wrap him up and make it go away, to have Henry’s warmth all around him, he needs Henry.

“Henry,” he says. A silent please. And suddenly Henry is there, holding him, peppering him with kisses, and Alex is choking back a sob, because this is all too much, but it’s Henry, and he’s intoxicating, and Alex would rather feel Henry than –

“Alex, love.” Alex realizes he’s cradled in Henry’s arms, on the floor, tears sliding down his cheeks even as Henry kisses each one of them away.

“I’m so sorry.”

Alex whines as Henry cards his fingers through his hair, his chest heaving. 

“No, love, never sorry.” Henry kisses down Alex’s jaw and into the tenderness of Alex’s neck and Alex lets himself be wrapped up in Henry’s sweetness, even if it hurts him so much he can hardly bear it. Even if he knows he doesn’t deserve it.

“Baby, I – “

“What do you need? What can I do?” Alex’s fingers find purchase with the buttons on Henry’s shirt. He kisses Henry hard, desperate and laid bare, his tongue easily opening Henry to him.

“You. Please.” Henry pulls back a little to study him more closely. 

“Are you sure?” Alex can see the light dusting of freckles on Henry’s nose. He could all but drown in the endless depths of blue that are Henry’s eyes, and he feels ready to pitch himself into them. Into him.

“Yes, baby, please. I need you. I want you. Please.” And Alex is undoing the buttons of Henry’s shirt, and kissing Henry so fiercely he’s breathless, because he just wants to climb into him, or out of himself. 

Suddenly Henry is laying Alex out on the bed, as if Alex is made of fine porcelain, both of them wearing nothing but underwear, and Alex craves those chiseled muscles that bulge in Henry’s shoulders as he holds himself over Alex, as Alex runs his finger down the ripples of Henry’s abdomen. Alex surges up to capture Henry’s lips again, but Henry pushes him back down onto the bed. 

“Let me take care of you, love.”

And Henry does, ravishing Alex with his beautiful pink mouth, mouthing Alex’s nipples in time with his strokes, ghosting his breath over all of Alex’s most sensitive spots. He treats Alex’s balls as if they were holy themselves, fondling and sucking them with such reverence Alex can’t help but cry out, yanking on Henry’s golden curls as those beautiful eyes smirk up at him. And when Henry finally wraps his perfect pink mouth around Alex’s length, kissing the tip before licking him from base to tip and then swallowing him whole without the slightest warning, Alex is left writhing and weak and boneless beneath him. Alex loves the way Henry’s mouth looks around him, and even as he feels Henry’s fingers breach the tightness of his hole, Alex can’t stand it, he needs more of it, he wants all of Henry, encompassing him, surrounding him, filling him. He wants Henry inside of him.

“So good, baby, _por favor, quiero_ , I need, more – “

“Anything,” Henry murmurs, as he swipes Alex’s lips for a kiss.

“I want you inside of me.”

Henry stills. They had never done this before. Alex had always topped, and he loved the feeling of being inside Henry, Henry's heat pressing tight around him.

“Sweetheart, it doesn’t matter what Pez or anyone else says –“

Alex gently kisses Henry’s fingertips and then guides Henry’s hand back to his hole, where he breaches himself onto Henry’s finger. Something tight grabs at his chest but Alex pushes it away. He rides back and forth on Henry, opening himself on him, begging, baby. He needs this. He needs Henry to make it stop.

“I need you. Please.”

Henry kisses Alex with such devotion that tears begin to stream down Alex’s cheeks, and Henry adds a second finger, this time with lube, beginning to scissor inside of him. Alex feels a sharp pain that ricochets to his chest, reverberating through his entire body, but he pushes it away, surrounding himself in nothing but Henry. The tightness in his chest returns, stronger this time, and he smashes his lips against Henry’s, as Henry makes him forget.

“So good for me, love,” Henry murmurs. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“I’m ready,” Alex begs, as this something becomes close to unbearable. “I need you, I need it, baby, please,” he almost sobs. “ _Te amo_.”

Henry removes his fingers and Alex tries to breathe as Henry gets himself ready, lining himself up with Alex’s entrance.

“Are you ready, love?” Henry asks, as he brushes sweaty curls back from Alex’s forehead.

“Yes,” Alex whispers.

But as Henry’s tip breaches Alex’s entrance, everything in Alex turns to ice. Ales feels the breath leave him as all his muscles contract and he experiences a sharp spasm of pain.

As if from far away, he hears Henry ask, “Alex, are you okay? Do you want to stop?”

Alex needed this, needed Henry, he can’t stop. Unbidden, the faceless man who haunts his nightmares swims before his eyes. Where Alex can’t get up. And can’t get out. And Alex knows. Knows suddenly why he always said he preferred to top. He’d thought it was just a preference. There was something, he didn’t like, about…

But Alex knows now, with sickening certainty, that he has been here before. On his back. Laid out. Not for Henry, but - He doesn’t know how. He doesn’t know when. He hasn’t even noticed that Henry is no longer on top of him, looking at him with concern. How could he have – how could he not remember? When could it have even - ? This couldn’t be real. It must be another one of his nightmares. But Alex can feel spasms of pain radiating through him, they feel so intense, so sudden, so real…. He begins to gasp for breath, he needs to get in air, he just needs, he needs to shut this out, he needs, Henry – 

Henry, gently touching his arm. Henry as if from a thousand miles away. “Alex, love, please talk to me. Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

And Alex is overcome with nausea so visceral that he jumps out of bed as if burned and runs to the toilet, throwing up violently, painfully, sobbing. Because he is dirty, tainted. Henry crouching by his side, Alex tries to push him away, because doesn’t he know, doesn’t he realize – but somehow Alex finds warm, strong arms that hold him tight no matter how hard he shakes, no matter how hard he tries to fight them off, who refuse to let him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My app is finally in, so here's another update! I know there's been a lot of sadness for these boys, but cuddles are coming! Comments and kudos as always appreciated! 
> 
> As always, black and trans lives matter. Fight for survivors.  
> Stay safe and healthy x


	6. Boiling Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry and Alex struggle to find one another in between dreams and reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting! I've had this awful virus that we thought was COVID but then turned out not to be, but still really kicked me down for two weeks.
> 
> Truthfully still haven't decided if I'm going to extend this chapter so that it has 3 parts with the three different perspectives or if it will be three separate chapters instead, but decided to at least post the first part for now, even if it's a little short!

Alex fades in and out, slipping between aching in cold sweat, pain shooting up from his knees on the hard tile, to crumpling in on his center, terrified of whatever truth is leaking out of him. He remembers strong arms lifting him as he shakes, enveloping him in the warm scent of cinnamon with a touch of bitterness. And Alex feels safe. He hears, or feels, in the faint whisper of words that vibrate through his chest, _I’ve got you sweetheart. I promise. I won’t let you go._

When Alex dreams, he sees it all in bright flashes of Technicolor. He sleeps fitfully, tossing and turning, as memories he hasn’t thought about in years flood his consciousness. He had tucked them all away so carefully, in boxes deep down where no one could reach. Not even him. Where they should’ve stayed.

He sees his parents’ divorce, dishes shattering, as he listens from the top of the stairs, how he didn’t sleep or eat for days on end. How it felt better that way somehow. Easier. A barrier of numbness between him and – everything. Being strung out on Liam’s Adderall. Liam, finding out what he’d done. How he shook in Liam’s arms as he cried, Liam stroking his shoulders tentatively. 

Liam. Liam. _Liam._ Alex can taste the beer on his lips. The beer he just keeps drinking, as if it will wash away the taste of Liam’s lips on his. And Alex hates himself for it, because he doesn’t want – this – he’s not – he can’t be – but Liam is so – and he doesn’t know how to stop it, he finds himself drowning it in, wanting to let go –

And he remembers the feeling of Liam’s hand on his cock the one time Liam reached over and finished him off, hesitant at first but then hard and fast, and how Alex arched at his touch…even though everything in Alex wanted to recoil, and how he sat in the cum and the shame of just how much he hates himself for it, for not being able to say no to how good it felt.

Alex tells himself they only make out because he’s drunk, that he doesn’t like the way Liam needs Alex’s lips on his, or how Liam bites into Alex’s neck hard. So Alex drinks.  
And he remembers… the one night, after lacrosse, they had won, snatching a last minute victory, challenged each other to beer pong in celebration – he sees how the room is spinning too hard above him, as Liam’s mouth trails down from Alex’s neck to his chest, and his stomach, and then Liam starts to undo Alex’s belt. And everything in Alex tightens, because Alex really wasn’t – they only made out sometimes – he didn’t want –

“Liam, wait – “ Alex slurs, as he tugs on Liam’s hair half-heartedly.

Liam meets him with an eager kiss, his mouth smashing into Alex’s, one hand tugging on Alex’s hair, the other slipping down beneath the waistband of his boxers and the room is spinning and –

“I’m gonna make this so good for you, Alex. I want to make this good for you. Please.”

So Alex lies there, trying not to think, trying not to notice how dirty he feels when he comes, how there’s a sob rising up from deep inside of him. How after that he doesn’t really see Liam anymore.

He watches himself confess this to Liam, years later, as they sit in the brownstone with beers: Liam and Spencer had come to New York for a visit, when Henry and Spencer had decided to give the two of them some catch up time. He hears himself apologizing, the shame spewing out of him, and listens to Liam’s breath catch. He’ll never forget how Liam started to cry. He hugs Alex and begins to apologize over and over, saying he would never, if he had known, and Alex is saying sorry too, and they’re both crying, cursing Southern conservativism, and holding each other, and rocking, and everything feels like it might be okay.

Alex remembers the first time he feels like he got to choose. Henry. He will always choose Henry. He knows Henry can’t know the depth of Alex’s certainty, his sureness, his steadyness, that Henry will always be his forever. 

He fell in love with Henry through phone calls. Henry showed him that love is about listening as much as it is taking, and Henry – Henry always listened to Alex, and gave him what he needed. Henry was…The first time he knew he was saying yes with everything he had. His first blow job. Henry. At Wimbledon, and that fucking polo uniform. The lake house, where a piece of him fell into place. And LA, where Henry became a piece of him too.

Henry made Alex feel like he was enough, like he was whole, like he was good, and Alex loved him for it, loved him so much it hurt – Henry made him feel worth it.

Alex remembers something else too. It’s blurry. It comes in - flashes, but – he was at still at Georgetown. He remembers trying to impress Rafael Luna to get on his summer campaign in Denver. Learning how Raf took his coffee. Failing at least three times before Raf actually drank it.

He remembers – him. He’d been new, and Alex hadn’t liked him at first…he seemed…cocky. But one day the printer jammed, Alex had stopped by to talk to Raf, planning to drop off a coffee and a few ideas about the southern constituency, only to find Raf in a planning meeting, and had noticed...him...struggling. He looked desperate, and Alex suddenly felt sorry for him. He realized...they might not be that different after all. So Alex helped him fix the printer, pulling out crumpled agendas... he’d been on a deadline and he had ended up with ink all over his suit and somehow it seemed…fitting. They went to coffee. They kept going to coffee. Alex remembers feeling noticed, like they had a dangerous inside joke. 

And Alex remembers sobbing in Raf’s office, Raf just letting Alex cry and promising Alex he would be okay, promising that whoever did this to Alex will be punished, and Alex doesn’t know how to tell Raf it’s too late, it doesn’t matter, he’s already broken. Alex pleads with him not to tell anyone, please, Alex can see how angry he is in how tightly Raf grips his desk, his knuckles whitening, but Alex makes him promise because he’s the only one who can know, no one else can ever know, and Alex hopes he hasn’t disappointed Raf too badly, he hopes Raf won’t see him as weak forever, even if Alex will always know the truth, and Alex can feel the sadness in Raf’s eyes and he can’t bear to be looked at and Alex’s chest is so tight it feels like it might explode and –

Alex wakes gasping for air, shouting, sweating, he doesn’t know where he is he can feel hands on his back and he’s running to the toilet and retching so hard he just wants it gone, he just wants it out, please, get it out –

He feels gentle fingers card hesitantly through his sweat-soaked hair.

“Sweetheart…”

Alex barely notices it at first, the sense of – grief – that is crashing over him in waves, grief at how completely empty and hollow he feels, as if his insides have been scooped out. Henry tentatively tips Alex back into his chest.

“Oh, darling,” Henry breathes, and Alex hears the pain buried there. Pain Alex created. He shudders, fingers desperately gripping Henry’s t-shirt, whispering sorry over and over, a prayer, a plea, as if maybe his litany of remorse could wash all this away. Henry just rocks him. 

Oh, how Henry wished he could protect Alex from the demons inside his head. A single tear traces its way down Henry’s cheek, but he shakes his head. Now is not the time. Henry breathes deeply, trying to fill them both with enough courage to get off the floor. He rises slowly, bringing Alex with him, Alex clinging desperately to his neck. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, love.”

Alex doesn’t know how he’s moving, his feet don’t feel connected to his legs – in fact, Alex isn’t sure he’s inside of his own body at all. There’s a muffled nothingness between him and what he knows is him, so when Henry holds out his toothbrush and Alex can’t seem to make his hands work, Henry just nods. 

“That’s okay. Can you open for me?”

Alex opens his mouth and Henry brushes his teeth for him, but Alex doesn’t feel Henry’s fingers gently steadying his jaw, or the way Henry fastidiously brushes each tooth, because he’s looking at himself in the mirror and he can’t see himself, he can’t find himself in the face he sees before him, and he searches and searches and searches until he blinks and Henry’s voice is next to him again. 

“Are you ready?” 

Alex sees the shower running, water weeping its way down the glass door, and Henry standing next to him in a towel. Alex is supposed to take his clothes off. The thought of being exposed like that makes his head swim. But it’s too hard to explain to Henry so he nods, and lets Henry help him out of his shirt and boxers, even though the accidental brush of Henry’s fingers on his sides made his stomach clench. He almost wished he couldn’t feel anything at all, it might be easier that way.

Henry washes him gently, never lingering, the touch of the washcloth soft on Alex’s skin. To Alex, the delicate cotton could have been cardboard, left his skin burning, and as Henry slowly massaged his scalp, waves of shame and guilt and horror crashed on Alex, over and over. This shower was too small. Too hot. He couldn’t tell Henry just how much he wasn’t worthy of this. How much he didn’t deserve Henry’s endless love, and devotion. Henry is Alex's entire world, he could be consumed by his hands, but right here, right now, Alex knows what the soap won't be able to wash off, and will not allow Henry to carry more of his darkness, when he has already lost so much. Alex would prefer to rip his own skin off than Henry touch him knowing –

And then, as if he couldn’t stop himself, Henry lays the softest of kisses on Alex’s shoulder. It was too much. The feeling of those lips on his skin, oh god, he couldn’t do this, he couldn’t have this anymore –

Alex felt himself scrabbling backward, forcing the shower down open in his desperation to get away. Henry must have seen his panic because guilt colored his eyes immediately.

“Alex, I’m sorry,” he says, reaching for Alex, but Henry sounds so far away now, and didn’t he know, it wasn’t his fault, couldn’t be his fault, that Alex was this way, that he was so – 

And Alex couldn’t bear the thought of Henry touching him, not now, so he finds himself in the bedroom, flinging on clothes, desperate to get out of the apartment, oblivious to the tears pouring down his face. Not even bothering with socks, he grabs his wallet and phone and flees downstairs as fast as his feet could carry him, only thinking that if he could get away before Henry got out of the shower, he could spare him this, this pain, because he couldn’t talk right now, not when claws were digging into the insides of his throat –

“Alex, wait, please, where are you going?”

Alex didn’t even bother to put on shoes. He grabs a pair in one hand and runs out the door,…he just can’t bear to look into Henry’s eyes, he can’t hurt him anymore….and he’s in the back of an SUV, tears still streaming down his face, watched by Cash’ anxious eyes, before Henry even made it to the elevator. 

Alex knows the darkness and anxiety swirling around Henry, how it clung in his hunched shoulder and the delicate insecurity of his touches, were all Alex’s fault, and Alex hated himself for it. 

He takes a deep breath, pulls out his phone, and texts Pez. _Henry needs you. Can you go to the brownstone?_ He hesitates, then types one more. _It’s not you. It’s me – my fault. I just need a minute to breathe. I’m so sorry. You will always be my forever, H. Even if I feel like I don't deserve it. Be back in a few hours, I promise._

Then he thinks of the one person, the one person who wouldn’t try to make him talk about how he feels, who wouldn’t feel guilty about having to lie to Henry. The one person recently who...grounds him. And he dials. Even if he knows it’s a monumentally stupid idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note Rafael Luna is not the villain of this story! I adore Rafael and think he’s an incredible mentor to Alex. Details are intentional ambiguous at the moment, but Raf is simply there to support Alex in the aftermath of a traumatic experience!
> 
> I've been wanting to include Liam in this story for a while, because I think he's super important to Alex's history, and I was struck in reading RWRB by how much Liam/Alex didn't seem to communicate about their physical intimacy and the almost lack of consent Alex had - the reference to the one time Liam jerks Alex off in particular, not to mention Alex being drunk in most of their intimate interactions. This is so different from his experience with Henry. However, I also adore Liam as a character, so what I wanted to really look at here was how when, in my experience, people are young and don't know how to communicate properly with their partners, or to properly seek their pleasure and communicate verbally about how they're interacting physically, interactions can cross a line for one person with the other party being none the wiser. Particularly given that Alex was so repressed about his sexuality, this felt like an important avenue to explore in their relationship, also because Alex never enjoyed even making out with Liam really, because he always had to be drunk. This is where all consent becomes tricky to define, even more important to be ultra clear about, and when you're young, easy to make mistakes if you're not really paying attention to all signs your partner is giving you - I think it is also important to have multiple examples of lacking clear consent in this story. Alex is always such a pleaser that I feel like he wouldn't want to take up space needing anything intimately prior to Henry, and sometimes not speaking up for what you need is just as big a part of the problem. But for Liam and Alex I also feel it's equally important they move past it and become closer as adults, and Liam will be a bigger part of this story moving forward as a support for Alex! 
> 
> Also, I promise Alex and Henry will get cuddles soon - ish and please no one freak out even though Alex's text is emo he's planning on returning home tonight can confirm xx


	7. Boiling Point Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part two of "Boiling Point" / we finally get Pez' perspective! (This is really an excuse to give Pez and Henry's glorious friendship some love!)
> 
> \--
> 
> AKA Pez is there for Henry. 
> 
> CW: brief mention of past self-harm. Take care, and know you are loved.

The moment Pez walks into the brownstone, he knows something is very, very wrong. He _knows_ he shouldn’t have left them last night. He can barely see Henry, bundled under a pile of blankets. He can see the rings of puffy red swelled around Henry’s eyes, the glassy sheen that tells him Henry’s battling something deep inside of himself. Pez feels the darkness inside Henry settling on him too, heavy and smothering, and he’s equally sure Alex is blaming himself. He sighs. These two really are perfect for each other.

He perches gently on the couch and moves Henry’s feet onto his lap, getting himself comfortable underneath the blanket.

“H. What’s going on?”

Henry doesn’t look at him. “How did you know?”

Pez hesitates. “Alex texted me.”

Henry’s face crumples, and he lets out a quiet sob. 

“Hey, Henry, listen to me – whatever happened, I’m sure it isn’t as bad as you think.”

“He says it’s his fault but I – oh god, Pez, you should’ve seen his face.”

Tears start streaming more insistently now, and Henry grabs at his hair angrily, pulling at himself in frustration.

With well practiced movements, Pez grabs Henry’s wrists firmly and pulls them towards him, stopping Henry from hurting himself. “Henry. No. We’re not doing that.”

Henry casts his eyes downwards. “I’m sorry.”

Pez covers Henry’s hands in his, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay.”

They sit there together for a moment, Pez rubbing soothing circles into Henry’s palm with his thumb. “Did you sleep at all?”

Henry shakes his head. “Alex was having these – nightmares – and I couldn’t – “. He cuts himself off, looking stricken. “How long has he been…and I’ve just been sleeping through it?”

Pez squeezes his hands again. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

Henry nods, swallowing hard. He looks at Pez, eyes filling with tears again. Pez can feel Henry’s hands trembling, and tries to keep his own breathing steady and even. 

“Well, you saw, he was just…and I’ve never seen him like that before, I kept trying to figure out what had happened, what was wrong…I didn’t know what to do. His whole body was shaking, his entire body, and he just kept crying, I just wanted to bring him back to me, to tell him it was okay, he was okay, but…I think I make it worse. The more I held him, the harder he shook. He was somewhere…far away, that was – hurting him – and I couldn’t bring him back. He just kept saying that he was sorry, and it didn’t matter that I told him he didn’t need to be sorry, that just made him shake harder… and I just wanted to help make the pain go away.” 

Henry looks at him again, his face contorted in anguish. “He was kissing me but it was like he wasn’t really there, like it wasn’t really him, but he just seemed to need it so _desperately_ , and I just – he was trembling so violently, it was like I could feel the pain radiating off him, but I didn’t know where it was coming from. I would’ve done anything to stop it, to make it better.” Henry’s voice cracks.

“And then he asked me to fuck him. And we’ve never – Alex has never wanted to do that. And I never thought…but he was begging, as if this was the only thing that could make it all stop, and I knew I shouldn’t, I knew this wasn’t how it was supposed to be, but it seemed like he needed it so badly, so I – “

Henry collapses in on himself in a sob. Pez rubs his back gently, waiting until Henry is ready. 

He begins again, whispering now. “It was all wrong. I hurt him, I know I did. I was barely inside of him and – his whole body changed. I couldn’t even get him to look at me, he made this noise like – like something had broken, inside of him, I had broken something inside of him. He couldn’t hear me, he started to breathe faster and faster like he couldn’t get enough air and when I touched his arm it was like I burned him. He ran to the bathroom and began to retch so hard – he hadn’t even eaten anything, but he couldn’t make himself stop, he was just retching over and over, for two hours.” 

Now, tears begin to stream down Henry’s cheeks. “When he exhausted himself…and couldn’t retch anymore…he started to cry. I’ve never heard him – like that – his whole body was just heaving, he couldn’t stop, he almost made himself sick again. I tried to hold him, but he kept pushing me away, as if he couldn’t bear my touching him. We stayed like that for hours.”

“When I finally got him to bed…he had nightmares all night. He was sort of... he kept talking in his sleep, whimpering, crying out, but he wouldn’t let me touch him, wouldn’t let me wake him up. He talked about things…he hasn’t talked about in years. He kept crying, calling for me, in his sleep, but every time I went to hold him he would start to panic. And right before he woke up, it got really bad…he was shouting and crying and I tried to calm him but I just made it worse again…and we ended up back on the bathroom floor. It was like he didn’t even know where he was, or what was going on, those eyes - they weren’t his, Pez. We were in the shower and I…I just love him so much. I want him to know that he can be safe with me. I kissed him, and he looked at me with such…panic, and fear, and guilt – and he left. I did that. I did that to him. I hurt him. He’ll never be able to trust me again, and I don’t blame him.”

Henry is full on sobbing now, terrified and horrified, and Pez can see he’s losing the battle to the darkness that pulls him down inside his head. Pez pulls Henry onto his lap, and holds him, letting him cry into his chest.

“It’s going to be alright,” Pez soothes, “I promise.”

“I hurt him.” Henry repeats over and over. “I hurt him when he needed me.”

Pez lets Henry cry himself out, knowing from experience he’s too worked up to hear sense. When his breathing finally evens, and Henry has relaxed his hold on Pez’ shirt, Pez tilts Henry’s chin up towards his. “Now you’re going to listen to my story.”

Henry nods, settling back into the couch, putting David onto his lap.

Pez twists his fingers anxiously, unsure how to begin. “No interruptions,” he clarifies. Henry nods again, watching him through half-lidded eyes as he runs his fingers through David’s fur.

“A long time ago, before uni, I had this friend who – well, I had this friend whose best mate’s dad died.”

Henry opens his mouth to speak, but Pez cuts him off. “Remember the rules.” So Henry listens.

“And this friend, his best mate wasn’t just any best mate. His best mate was the most important person to him in the entire world. But his mate’s dad – well, he wasn’t just any dad. His dad was his mate’s entire world.

So, when his dad died, this friend didn’t know what to do, or how to help. He knew everything was different now. He knew he could never understand what his mate had lost, or try to make up for it. So he tried to make his mate laugh, and be there whenever he knew his mate didn’t have anyone else, so that he would know he never had to be alone.

But this friend knew his mate was struggling, and that he was trying to hide it. To be the perfect, solid, dependable person everyone expected him to be. And this friend was terrified that one day it would all be too much. And one day, when his mate calls him, and this friend finds him in the shower, with his wrists bleeding…this friend feels like it’s all his fault. If he had just been there when his mate needed him, this wouldn’t have happened.”

Henry gives Pez’ hand a squeeze. There are tears in his eyes, but Henry doesn’t let them fall. Pez feels his throat constrict, and clears his throat.

“It takes a long time for…this friend… to realize that, by answering the phone, and coming to get his mate, in the shower, he was being there…exactly when his mate needed him. There was nothing more or less he could’ve done. He’s there when his mate goes to the hospital that night, and is there when his mate starts to see a therapist.”

Pez looks straight at Henry. “His mate…knows now, that whenever he needs someone, this friend is only a phone call away. This friend realized that…sometimes…you have to wait for the people you love to come to you.”

Henry looks at him for a long moment, and then suddenly pulls him into a bone-crushing hug. “Thank you,” he whispers, and Pez hugs him back, hard. They stay like that for a long time, until finally Henry pulls away. He looks exhausted.

“What now?” he asks.

“Well, I bet you could use some fresh air, David needs a walk, and you could use some breakfast. Then you need to sleep. In that order.” David barks his agreement, eagerly jumping off the couch and bringing Pez his leash excitedly.

Pez and Henry take David on a walk, and the fresh air does Henry good. Pez can see the demons clear out of Henry’s head, just a bit. Then Pez insists on making Henry chocolate chip pancakes, even though he doesn’t really know how to cook, and gets flour and batter all over himself, Henry, and the kitchen in the process. It’s worth it to see Henry laugh. After deeming Henry finally has had enough to eat, Pez puts him in the bath and then tucks him straight into bed. Henry teases him for his mothering, but he doesn’t really complain. It makes Pez feel useful, and Pez knows Henry needs it. 

Henry sleeps for most of the day, unsurprisingly, as Pez cleans the kitchen and has Shaan run out to grab them greasy takeout for dinner. He tries not to watch his phone anxiously for a message from Alex. June stops by, and they cuddle with David as they catch up on old reruns of West Wing and make fun of the inaccuracies. Something mindless, something to distract from the gnawing worry eating at both of them. They hold each other, breathing through it, acknowledging its existence. Pez tells her what happened, everything Henry told him, and June bites her lip, shifting on the couch. 

Pez puts an arm around her, bringing her into him, and she cuddles gratefully into his chest. “Why won’t you tell me what you know?” he asks softly, as he strokes her hair.

She reaches up and cups his chin, looking, just for a moment, old with the weight of years of responsibility. “Because it’s not my story to tell. Just like you won’t tell me what happened with Alex at Henry’s party the other day.”

“Touché,” Pez admits, laughing a little, as he kisses her hair. “I’m worried about him.”

June holds Pez a little closer. “I’m always worried about him.”

When the sky begins to turn inky black, and Henry stumbles into the kitchen, hair tousled, but admittedly looking more well rested, to only find June and Pez, his expression turns to worry.

“I need to know where he is. I need to know he’s alright.”

Pez and June look at each other. June hesitates, then makes a decision, pulling out her phone. “Let me call Cash.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are one chapter away from partial reconciliation / the beginnings of communication between Henry and Alex! Thanks for hanging in there loves! I just wanted to give Henry's perspective and mental health the weight and mention it is due. Also, more Liam and Chris coming soon!
> 
> As always, BLM.


	8. Boiling Point Pt. 3:

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex finds comfort in an unexpected source, and the missing pieces start to fall into place. 
> 
> Chris POV, and later Alex POV.

Chris hadn’t meant to fall for America’s Golden Boy. He really hadn’t. He’d watched, from afar, as Alex and Henry’s scandal broke. Tried to ignore the flicker of warring pride and fascination he felt as he imagined two young public figures brave enough to come out as a couple. Read a few of the Waterloo letters. Tried to ignore the ache in his chest as he tried to imagine what it would be like to love so completely. Without reservation.

But the minute Alex had walked into the office the first day, Chris knew he was fucked. Alex was unapologetically radiant, loud and messy, swearing in Spanish as he spilled coffee down his wrist, talking nonstop with his hands. He gave everyone an equally bright smile, a smile that lit up his dark brown eyes with a fire Chris found mesmerizing, as if each and every person had personally improved his day just by being a part of it. 

The universe seemed determine to make Chris suffer. He and Alex bond almost immediately over their nerd-level of enthusiasm for all things history, and obsessive work patterns. Soon, Alex learns how Chris likes his coffee, always leaving a fresh mug steaming on his desk. Worst of all, he seems to care what Chris thinks, conferring with him on policy suggestions or research tactics. And Chris sees how much Alex cares: how desperately he’s trying to make something right for these people he feels responsible for, who look up to him, and Chris’ heart breaks a little every time he sees the size of the bags under Alex’s eyes.

He remembers how Alex once made homemade queso for the office and insisted Chris try some, even though Chris had seen the jalapeño chunks and balked. He remembers the feeling of Alex’s warm hand underneath his chin as he scooped the chip into Chris’ mouth, and the way his eyes crinkled with silent laughter as he patiently poured Chris glass after glass of milk as soon as Chris realized his mouth was on fire.

He remembers finding Alex asleep at his desk at the end of the day, and the gentle confusion and small smile that arose to his face upon waking, his hair mussed and curls sticking up at every possible angle. That being the sight Chris wanted to wake up to every day.

He remembers finding a book of Tracy K. Smith’s poetry on his desk the morning of his birthday and grinning like an idiot, recalling how he and Alex had talked about Smith and her significance one late night in the office.

Then, maybe two months after Alex’s arrival, they both stayed working far too late, until Chris was threatening to cut Alex off from coffee. Alex suggested grabbing a slice of pizza on the way home, dragging him to a tiny diner with yellow and green vinyl booths. Chris didn’t have it in him to say no, remembering how the Prince – the actual Prince – had called him a few weeks ago, sounding nervous, stilted. How he had said, in his clipped British accent, _that he knows how much Alex respects Chris’ opinion and if…Chris wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on him. Makes sure he actually drinks some water in between all the coffee. Remembers to eat. That sort of thing. The book tour was picking up and… “Should I be worried?” Chris remembers asking. “You’ll see,”_ was all Henry had replied, before hanging up the phone.

So Chris finds himself ordering an insane amount of extremely greasy pizza and hot wings with Alex, who looks like Christmas has just come early. He also orders them a pitcher of beer. Chris knows he should stick to water, just to be safe, but Alex is grinning at him in that delighted way where the right corner of his mouth quirks just higher than his left, and somehow, one pitcher becomes three. Alex has eaten almost the entire bucket of hot wings by himself and is now lounging languidly across his entire side of the booth, the top buttons of his shirt undone, a rosy flush creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks. They have somehow made it through all their law school horror stories and Chris’ sides are aching with laughter, as Alex grins bemusedly up at him. 

Somewhere along the way, he’d told Alex about his Henry. Except that his name was Damien, and his hair had been blond and wavy and curled just past the tips of his ears. He had an earring in one ear and wore ripped jeans no matter where he was going. He was everything Chris wasn’t – wild and carefree and so undeniably alive – and Chris had been intoxicated by him. He showed Chris secret speakeasys and where to get the best hotdogs and just for a moment it felt like maybe New York could become home, wrapped around Damien’s excited blue eyes beckoning him forward. But Damien had never been the kind of person to put down roots, let alone settle for one partner…Chris only found out that part later. 

Alex had laid his hand on top of Chris’ just for a moment, and the warmth of Alex’s touch had shocked him. “You deserve more than that”, he had said. Quietly. Factually. And Chris knew then he would let Alex consume him, if Alex wanted.

Now, through his hopps induced haze, he can see that Alex’s glasses – which Alex has just started letting Chris see, partially on accident – have become crooked – and Chris has to fight off the urge to reach across the table and straighten them.

“If you could be anything,” Chris says, words slurring slightly as he downs another sip of beer, “what would you be?”

“A New York style pizza,” Alex slurs, as he slowly lifts up the last slice and tears it in half, staring up at his half and consuming it greedily from the tip in a manner that is positively obscene. Chris flags for another pitcher.

“I’m serious.”

Alex looks at him then, considering. Chris doesn’t think he’s ever seen Alex look so relaxed. There’s a spot of sauce on the corner of his lips, which Chris determinedly ignores.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles. “Probably still this, I guess.”

“You love being a lawyer that much?”

“I want to…help people.”

Chris laughs. He can’t help it. “How are you _so_ good?”

Alex flinches, looks away, his restless energy instantly returning. “I’m not,” he insists, looking everywhere but Chris. “I’m not,” he repeats, stronger this time.

Chris could kick himself. “Hey, okay, you’re not, you’re a political climber.” Alex doesn’t even smile. Chris can feel the change in energy and he’d do anything to rewind ten seconds, before he put his foot in his mouth.

“Alex, listen – “

“Do you mind if we go?” Alex interrupts. “I’m wiped.” And he smiles then, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and all the sudden Chris sees it, the mask that falls into place to cover the exhaustion and stress and something else Chris can’t quite name.

On the silent drive to drop Chris back at his apartment, Chris tells Alex about how his dad was a lawyer too, so he was always supposed to be a lawyer, and after his mom died when he was in college…that’s just what he went and did. He doesn’t tell Alex that even though he loves his work, he hadn’t felt alive in a long time. Not until someone with blazing brown eyes walked in the door. Alex might not have even been listening. He was somewhere…far away, out of reach, somewhere Chris didn’t know how to get to.

A few days later, when Henry stops in to surprise Alex, and Chris watches Alex melt into Henry’s arms, something inside Chris snaps. The two of them were so bright and brilliant, and this aching want, this so close to something, was eating him up inside. It would be easier if Alex hated him…than…this. This hurt too much. So he made himself into a person that pushed Alex too far, just to push him away. This way, Chris could breathe, even if Alex’s brown eyes haunted him in his dreams.

But when Chris opens his door that Sunday, something about Alex makes his breath catch. He is soaking wet, hair plastered to his forehead, eyes red rimmed and chest heaving. Alex usually draws the attention of the entire room, but now, the way his entire body is trembling and he curls in on himself, as if he just wants to disappear, fills Chris with fear.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s a Sunday, and I said I would take the weekend off…” His voice is husky and raw around the edges, as if the effort of every word hurts.

“I just – “ His voice cracks and Alex rubs his face with his hands, coming to grab his hair hard. That snaps Chris into motion.

“It’s fine, I’m glad you called me. Why don’t you come in?” As he leads Alex through the door, he exchanges looks with Cash, and even on the bodyguard’s normally impassive face Chris can see lines of worry.

Chris closes the door to see Alex standing stock still in the middle of his living room.

“I’m sorry, I interrupted your weekend, I shouldn’t have just come over like this,” he chokes out miserably. Chris can see he’s on the verge of tears.

“The only thing you interrupted me from was the crossword, I promise.”

Alex still doesn’t move.

“Do you want to…can I get you some dry clothes?” Chris offers, as he watches Alex shiver, or tremble, he’s not sure which.

Alex flinches violently and takes a few steps away from him, curling in on himself. “No. I don’t – no.”

“Okay, that’s okay. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable then while I make us some coffee?”

Alex slowly walks to the couch, as if in a daze, and hesitantly perches on the edge. Chris watches him out of the corner of his eye as he mechanically scoops coffee grounds and presses buttons. 

Alex looks like a ghost, his whole body shaking quietly, as he tries to occupy as little space as possible. His face is ashen, almost gray, and his eyes have a deadened, haunted look to them Chris has never seen before. Chris wonders when he last ate. Knowing Alex, it’s probably been far too long, He pops some white toast in the toaster and butters it lightly, thinking at least if it’s bland maybe he can get Alex to eat something. He sets the steaming mug and plate down in front of him and sits in his favorite armchair, careful to maintain a safe distance between them. Alex looks like he can’t bear to be touched right now, and won’t even look at him, eventually palming the mug tentatively, as if the heat might shock him.

Alex takes the smallest of sips, and Chris can see the tiniest bit of relief flicker over his face before disappearing. “Thank you,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “It’s good coffee.”

They sit in silence for a long time, and Chris waits until he sees Alex begin to relax slightly into the couch before daring to speak.

“It’s okay to let go of control, sometimes, you know,” Chris says carefully, scrutinizing Alex’s face for some sign, some way in to what was going on inside his head. Chris hears Alex’s breath hitch, but Alex refuses to look at him, he just stares determinedly down into his mug, so Chris presses on. “To let yourself fall apart. You’re always running, Alex, and you’re allowed to just stop for awhile.”

Alex whispers something so quietly Chris doesn’t catch it. “What?”

Alex clears his throat, and that’s when Chris realizes with a jolt that tears are leaking out of the corners of Alex’s eyes, despite how desperately he seems to be trying to suppress them. “I can’t,” he whispers again, and Chris can hear all the pain and jagged edges buried in those two little words.

Alex sets his cup down suddenly and grabs at his hair, hard. He opens his mouth but no sound comes out, and Chris aches to put his arms around him, but instead doesn’t move, doesn’t dare make a sound, not wanting to frighten off this dam that had opened. 

“I feel like I’m drowning,” Alex finally exhales in a rush, still curled on himself. “And I – it’s eating me up inside….and I – I don’t know how to….I _can’t_ ”. He breaks off in a sob. “I’m just so tired.”

The sobs come faster now, rising up out of Alex strong, hard, and desperate, and Chris can’t help it. He moves closer, still not touching, and sits on the couch, just so Alex can know that he is not alone inside this storm he’s trapped in. To his surprise, he feels Alex move just a little closer, their shoulders slightly touching, and fingers grip the seam of his jeans, and as he listens to Alex’s breathing get faster and faster, he knows Alex needs a physical anchor, something to remind him of what’s here. So Chris puts his arm carefully across the back of the couch, while still not touching Alex in any way. Just a reminder that Chris is here. That Alex isn’t alone.

“It’s alright, Alex…it’s okay. You’re going to be okay,” Chris tries to soothe, his mind working a mile a minute.

“It’s- it’s n-n-not.” Alex is sobbing so hard now he can barely get words out. “I can’t – I just want it out. I just want it gone.”

“Okay…that’s okay…” _Want what gone?_

“I – I can’t.” His breathing is getting faster now, even more erratic. “It’s everywhere, it’s all over me and – and – and –

“Alex, you need to breathe.”

“need to tell Raf that I can’t oh god – “

_Rafael Luna? What is going on?_

Suddenly, Alex stills, his entire body tensing. “I think I’m gonna be sick,” he gasps, as he leaps up from the couch before Chris can stop him. Alex’s body sways instantly and he drops like a stone, Chris catching him just before he manages to crack his head on the corner of the coffee table.

“Alex! Alex, oh Jesus” Chris swears as he lays Alex back down on the couch, Alex’s head in his lap. Alex’s face has a greenish tint to it; his lips are an unnatural white, forehead covered in sweat and skin cold, Chris can even see the whites of his eyes peeking out from under his eyelids.

“Alex, come on, stay with me”. He slaps Alex’s cheek gently but gets no response. Trying to quell the rising panic inside him, Chris considers getting Alex’s security, but he knows Alex wouldn’t want anyone else to see him like this, fragile and desperate.

He slaps Alex again, harder this time. “Come on, you stupid, stubborn fucker”.

Chris hears a small moan in response and feels relief flood over him. He pets Alex’s hair tentatively. “That’s it, Alex. That’s it, love. Come back to me.”

Chris has never been so relieved to see Alex’s glassy, bewildered eyes looking up at him. He feels Alex tense in his lap almost immediately, so he extricates himself from under Alex’s head, kneeling next to him instead. “How are you feeling?”

“Chris?” Alex slurs, still looking confusing and a bit scared. “Why – What happened?”

“You passed out. Nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Head hurts,” Alex mumbles, the glassy look not leaving his eyes.

Chris looks at him for a long moment. “When’s the last time you ate something?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Alex shrugs, beginning to try and sit up.

“Hey, whoah!” Chris says, pushing him back down. “Absolutely not.”

Alex’s eyes flash when Chris lays his hands on his chest. “Don’t.”

Chris holds up his hands apologetically. “You need to eat.”

“Fuck off, Chris.”

Chris wonders why Alex is fighting him so hard. He’s never been this defensive before.

“Alex – “ But Alex interrupts him.

“I – I don’t deserve it.” Quietly, as if just to himself, “I’m disgusting.”

Chris feels like he’s been punched in the stomach. How can Alex – beautiful, perfect, good Alex – possibly think… 

“It’ll make you feel better,” Chris says quietly, not knowing what else to say.

Alex’s eyes flick to his, and Chris sees just a glimpse of the pain and shame and guilt buried there. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

Alex takes each bite as if it physically pains him, but manages to finish the toast and several glasses of water, after which a little bit of color has returned to his cheeks. But Chris can also see the utter exhaustion in his face, bags so dark they look like bruises, and his heart hurts. Alex sits curled up in a ball on one end of the couch, when suddenly, he speaks. Quietly, as if his own voice surprised him.

“Chris?”

Mm?” 

Alex’s fingers were busy tracing lines on the blanket on his lap. “If you could forget him – I mean – the person who hurt you the most…would you?

Chris’ head snaps up. He hadn’t realized Alex remembered that night. The night, in his mind. When everything changed between them. But Alex isn’t looking at him, staring straight ahead, staring at nothing, and Chris lets it all wash over him for a second.

“No,” he says finally. “It’s part of me, you know?

But Alex doesn’t respond, doesn’t even indicate he’s heard, just keeps staring straight ahead, looking off at…something. After a while, Chris goes to his bookshelf, grabs the old LSAT test prep guide, and begins to read aloud. His voice fills the room surprisingly, warm and heavy, after all the silence. He’d always found it easier for his mind to relax concentrating on facts and memorizing material, and he thought maybe… and after about thirty minutes of ‘how to prep for the LSAT’, Alex’s eyes slowly begin to flutter shut. So Chris keeps reading, he keeps reading until Alex’s breathing evens out, he keeps reading until the sun has started to set and the colors in the sky go from orange to dark blues to inky blacks because if he can give Alex anything, he wants to give him this. A moment to rest. And he doesn’t even notice how late it’s gotten or how his eyes too, are beginning to droop, he just wants to let Alex sleep for a little longer… 

Until he snaps awake at the sound of someone shouting loudly outside his door. Rubbing the crick in his neck, Chris looks anxiously over at Alex, who now has a furrow in his brow but just burrows his head deeper into the pillow. Quickly, he stands and strides over to the door, hoping if he can get this idiot to shut up he can avoid the noise waking Alex…but when his door swings open, he finds himself face to face with an irate Prince of England. _Shit._

“Where in the bloody hell is he?” Henry shouts, looking more distressed and careworn than Chris had ever seen him, hair mussed and clothing wrinkled. He can see Alex’s sister and the guy he thinks is her boyfriend standing behind Henry, looking worried.

“Henry – “ Chris says quietly, still trying to avoid waking Alex, but Henry interrupts him. 

“You can call me Your Royal Highness,” Henry says coldly, his blue eyes flashing with rage.

“Hen,” June’s boyfriend – Pez, he thinks? – interrupts. “Maybe we should all just take a breath.”

“Alex just disappears for six hours after what happened this morning and you want me to take a breath?” Henry demands. “You really think he’s safe with _him_?” He adds, gesturing to Chris.

Chris ignores the beating his character is taking, attempting to remain calm.

“We were here the whole time, sir,” Cash adds, from where he’s standing just outside the doorway.

Henry turns to Cash with a growl. “And don’t even get me started on how you could possibly think this was a good idea –“

“With all due respect, sir,” Cash interrupts. “I’m part of Alex’s service, not yours. And this morning he was – distressed. I thought it best he take some time.”

A muscle in Henry’s jaw jumps. “I need to see him.” 

Without waiting for an answer, he pushes past Chris into the apartment. June, Pez, and Cash quickly follow, with Chris at the rear trying to ignore the growing dread in his gut.

Henry is crouched by the couch where Alex is – miraculously – still asleep. Henry ghosts his hand lightly over the top of Alex’s head and whispers something, and despite his anger, he feels a rush of understanding towards the prince kneeling on his floor. Seeing Alex like this broke his heart, too, and Alex wasn’t even his.

Alex’s eyes flicker open and Chris watches the blood drain from his face as his eyes land on Henry, June, Pez, and lastly, his own. He starts to curl on himself and Chris wishes he could remind him it was okay to let go.

\--

When Alex opens his eyes, he can’t remember where he is at first. Then he recalls the events of this morning and feels sick. When he notices Henry’s face in front on his, the first thing he sees is that Henry looks…angry. Alex isn’t sure why, but he probably deserves it. Then he notices June and Pez and – _oh_.

He isn’t in the brownstone. He doesn’t even know why he came here, really, he just needed a place that didn’t drown him in memories and make him feel completely filthy and sometimes Alex got the feeling that Chris understood what it’s like to be running from something that will always catch up to you. He just needed – quiet, for a minute.

Henry is asking something. Wondering if he’s okay. Alex feels a bubble of hysterical laughter rise up in him because he couldn’t be further from okay, but then Henry is asking why he came here, and Alex feels like he’s drowning all over again. Because he knows what Henry is really asking, asking if it’s me, but how can Alex tell him _no, no, it all has to do with this broken puzzle piece Henry can never know about because Alex isn’t sure if he can bear to let Henry love him otherwise_?

But now Henry is shouting. “I mean do you know how long you were gone, Alex? Six hours. Six! And I was worried sick – and – of all the places, you’re here with – with him? I don’t know what’s going on with you, and I’m trying, I really am, but for gods sake Alex, I need you to let me in, to talk to me, please! I mean, if it’s a cheap fuck you’re after, really, darling – “

And the blood is roaring in Alex’s ears and all the sudden he can’t breathe again, everything is too tight and hurts and all the sudden he’s shouting too – 

“STOP IT!” He roars, only vaguely noticing the tears trickling down his cheeks. “Stop it, please, I – I – ". And he’s gasping again and he’s looking for air but he won’t do this again, not here. 

“You know I would never,” he whispers now, tears still trickling. “Let’s just go home.”

And he sees the faint blush rise to Henry’s cheeks but Alex doesn’t have the time or energy for it anymore, there is too much inside of him and not enough space. He walks past them all, mouthing a silent “I’m sorry” to Chris as he goes.

He thinks Henry tries to talk to him in the car but he isn’t able to hear, really, his ears are just filled with this frantic buzzing – so he just says a blanket “I’m sorry” for it all, because he is, he's so, so sorry, but if he has to say anything else it all might come bursting out and - and concentrates on tightening his fists in his lap, focusing on keeping himself together until they get home. He can see the way June is looking at him but can’t bring himself to care, trying not to drown in the chorus of _‘can’t can’t can’t’_ s whispering in his ears. When they finally make it inside, Alex heads straight upstairs, into the bathroom, barely even feeling Henry’s attempt to grab his hand.

He turns on the shower and breathes, head between his knees. He can’t keep running from this, he needs to tell Henry, tell Henry something, but he can’t – he can’t do it alone. 

He picks up the phone and dials – the first call he feels good about in days. The voice on the other end is warm and rough and gentle, and reminds Alex of home. 

For a moment, Alex can’t bring himself to speak, self-loathing filling him for all he has taken and continues to take from those he loves.

“Alex? Are you alright?”

Alex feels tears burning in his throat.

“Alex?”

“Liam, I – I thought I had forgotten, or, gotten over, or – but I was wrong, it was always there, hiding, waiting for me beneath the surface, and Henry and I, we tried to – and it all came back, Liam, it all came back.” Alex is crying again now, snot running into his mouth, salt and shame filling his senses.

“And it’s everywhere, he’s everywhere, and I can barely let Henry touch me, I feel so…tainted. And I can’t tell him Liam he’ll never look at me the same way again. I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m sorry Liam, I’m sorry, god, you’re just the only one whom I actually –“

Liam is quiet for a moment. When he speaks, his voice is sorrowful. “What do you need, Alex?”

“I need it to stop, I need him out of me, please…” Alex wraps around the phone, desperate.

“Alex, I wish I could do that. I wish I – what he did – I would do anything to change it. For you. But I can’t. You can’t. You need to talk to Henry.”

“I can’t.”

“Alex, he will love you no matter what – “

“Telling him makes it real, and I – “ Alex imagines the look on Henry’s face if he tells him, and his nausea returns. Alex retches, and it takes several minutes before he can hear Liam clearly.

“Alex, it’s going to be okay. Breathe. I… do you want me to fly up? I can be there, help you talk to Henry, and your family, if you want.”

Alex isn’t sure he’s heard him correctly. “You would do that?”

“Alex, yes. You’re important to me, and this – no one should have to go through this, you hear me?” 

Alex did, he just wasn’t sure he believed him. Just as Henry didn’t believe Pez, who patiently wrapped Henry’s bleeding fist as Henry blamed himself over and over. A floor between them, the two had never felt further apart.

Little did they know just how much they would both need these friends, and a way back to each other... as Alex’s ghosts would soon become much more real, a thing of the past no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Henry will be getting some info in the next chapter, our boys will begin to find our way back to each other, and Alex may run into a ghost or two. Feat the support of Liam and introduction of LUNA and support from him! FINALLY!
> 
> Appreciate your patience with the slow building...Chris has relevance later in a less than obvious way!
> 
> If the subject matter is triggering, take care and know you are loved and supported.
> 
> Also sorry about the rough comment from H, he's just insecure about Chris and is literally so in the dark, that will come into play later! I love my boys and I promise their eventual reconciliation will be worth the wait and angst xx


	9. Stages of Melting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pez is honest with Henry.  
> Henry and Alex begin to find their way back to each other.
> 
> Alex's nightmares begin to take shape.

Henry knows he fucked up. Royally, so to speak. Especially after he was the one to set Alex off earlier today. But seeing Alex on Chris’ couch, under Chris’ blanket… it just confirmed that Alex would rather be anywhere else than with him, right now. He had just…snapped.

Henry sighs. He could tell Alex had been far from okay during the car ride, he had been practically vibrating in the seat next to him, Henry had tried to soothe him, but… 

Henry knows, he _knows_ Alex would never cheat on him. He just feels so far away… 

Of course, now Alex can’t even stand to be in the same room with him. Henry can’t seem to do anything right. He had been so furious with himself when he’d gotten back to the brownstone that he’d tried to break one of the glass panels in the doors that led to their balcony, but had only succeeded in splitting his knuckles… He wonders numbly what Alex is doing, listening to the shower running as Pez wraps his hand.

“I can feel your brain working too hard from here,” Pez remarks dryly, as he finishes Henry’s bandage.

“I fucked up,” Henry groans, putting his head in his hands.

“Well, yes. You did.”

“Thanks for the support. Where’s June?” 

“She thought you guys could use some space right now…”

Henry snorts dryly. “Really? Because we already have so much space between us I might have to rent another floor to accommodate it.”

Pez doesn’t answer, going to get himself a drink. Henry waits. Pez does not return to the couch, but instead stands with his back to him.

“So now you’re giving me the silent treatment too?” Henry’s starting to feel a little hysterical. _What is going on? Why won’t anyone talk to him?_

Pez doesn’t look at him, but he sighs, sounding tired. “Hen…”

“What?” Pez is his best friend after all. They take each other’s sides, no matter what.

“I just don’t think you’re being very…understanding about this.”

Henry can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Understanding? Alex went to Chris’ apartment, after he ran out on me, after all the moves that guy has tried on him, and you think I should just be fine with it.”

Henry can tell by the way Pez’ shoulders are rising up to his ears that he’s beginning to get angry, but Henry can’t for the life of him figure out why. Henry watches him down the rest of whiskey. “Yes. I do.”

Henry can’t help but feel stung. “So I shouldn’t be suspicious at all about Alex – “

Pez slams down his tumbler suddenly, surprising Henry. “For fucks sake Henry, this isn’t about you!” he shouts. He spins around now to face Henry, clenching and unclenching his fists slowly. He tries to take a deep breath. “Clearly Alex is dealing with something – “

Henry cuts him off. “Well why don’t you tell me, since you clearly know all about it,” Henry snaps.

Pez’ eyes flash. “You sound like your brother.”

Henry recoils, feeling sick. His legs suddenly feel shaky and he sinks down to sit on the couch, feeling numb.

Pez storms out of the room, only to return seconds later holding a manila folder in his hand.

“It is not my job,” Pez spits out through gritted teeth, “to solve communication issues between you and Alex.”

“I just don’t understand why Alex would go to him, after everything,” Henry protests weakly, as way of an apology, but Pez cuts him off, tossing the folder into his lap.

“Instead of wasting so much time wondering why Alex is getting support from other people, maybe you need to ask yourself why he isn’t comfortable talking to you.” Pez’ eyes are cold, and Henry shivers. He isn’t usually on the receiving end of protective Pez.

“Pez – “ he begins, but Pez holds up a hand, stopping him.

“No. First, you read the file. It’s what Alex has been working on. Then, we can talk.” Pez pauses, then his eyes soften just slightly. “I found out by accident, when I went to find Alex, the night of your party. But there’s a reason…” He tries again. “Clearly, last night brought up something else, but this… Just read it. It’s…” He holds at his throat for a moment, and shakes his head. He goes to get another drink and waits.

Henry stares at the file in his lap, for the first time feeling sickening dread pooling in his gut. The thought of whatever was inside…terrified him. But what he actually saw – the images, the reports, the skin so alike the one he worshipped on his lover, that Henry would ghost in kisses – had him choking back bile. Alex, working on this alone, for months. _Oh, my love._

“Oh, god,” Henry chokes out, feeling the shame and guilt and repulsion at himself rip at his insides. Pez looks up at him, patiently now. “Why didn’t he - ?”

“I told him he needed to tell you,” Pez says softly. “And he was going to, I think. He just didn’t know how. You have to understand Henry – you have the pressure of your family. And that’s its own enormous crushing thing.”

“But for Alex and I – and… especially for Alex – it’s different. The pressure to be America’s Golden Boy, the son of a white president, the first female president, to be the First Son and public figure America expects him to be – you have to rip yourself in two, divide yourself into pieces of what is ‘assimilated enough’ to fit in America’s definition of the word ‘cultured’ and ‘good enough’ – and the guilt and the shame for the people and the places and the truth you are leaving behind gnaw at you until you wonder if it’s wrong to be relieved to not feel guilty anymore, even though you recognize you’re losing a part of yourself to the homogenous wash that is this country’s culture founded on systemic bigotry and oppressive fucks. And then when you finally get to the place where you can you use the influence you’ve gathered by living in this system that's not built for you to fight for the people you’ve left behind, you have to reconcile the life you’ve built within the very privilege that excludes people just like you with the people you now realize you are too late to fight for.”

Pez is breathing hard now, and there’s a fire and a _pain_ in his eyes Henry has never seen before.

“And Alex believes that if he just works hard enough, if he just yells loud enough and fights and fights and fights with everything he can….he might be able to save everyone. That he alone can make the guilt that eats us up inside balance out. No matter if it tears Alex to pieces in the process.”

Pez finally sinks down onto the couch, looking exhausted, his body and everything it carries too heavy to hold. Henry wants to reach out, to comfort his oldest friend, but doesn’t want to overstep, not in this moment, not without his permission.

“And Alex…just wants to be _good_ for you, I think. Alex just wants to be…he just wants to be enough.”

“He’s – _he’s everything_ ,“ Henry whispers, not even noticing the steady trickle of tears running down his cheeks. The shame and the horror and the guilt are churning heavily inside him, and Pez ruffles his hair softly.

“I know. It’s okay. You didn’t know.”

“It’s not- “

“And now you do. Now, you can do better.”

Henry takes a deep breath. “Yeah. Yes. I will.” 

Henry cups Pez’ face in his hands, for just a moment. “Thank you.”

Pez smiles. “Like I said before. Anything for my favorite couple.” He claps Henry on the back. “Now go get him. I’ll give you two some time.”

Henry crosses to the stairs as Pez heads out the door, but before Pez can leave, Henry calls after him. Pez steps back through the doorway. “Pez – if I – I mean, if I can – “

Pez cuts him off with a smile. “H, we’ve been best mates for as long as I can remember. You’ve always been everything I needed. As a mate, I mean.”

Pez wiggles his eyebrows, and Henry forces out a chuckle.

“Don’t worry. I still remember you kicking Aaron Daniels arse for me at Eton.”

“Well he was an arse,” Henry mutters, blushing.

“Mate,” Pez says firmly. “We’re okay. We’ve always been…we’ll always be okay. Just…sometimes, you need your partner to see _all of you_ , yeah? That’s what I have June for. Alex needs you.

Henry nods, the knot in his throat tightening. 

“Go be brave, Fox,” Pez calls, and closes the door firmly behind him.

Henry hopes he can be as brave as Alex needs him to be.

\--

Henry finds Alex asleep on the bathroom floor, head resting on the lip of the bathtub at the world’s most uncomfortable angle, as the shower fills the room with warm steam. For a few long minutes, Henry just looks at the man he loves more than life itself. 

He sees the deep, dark, purple bags under Alex’s eyes, the slimness of his angular shoulders and narrow waist. He wonders about the meaning of the visceral nausea that clamps down on Alex without warning. He wonders how long Alex has been waking up in the middle of the night choking on his own breath, and remorse rises in him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown him. 

Watching his breath rise and fall, Henry knows he needs to wake Alex, but he also knows this is Alex’s first rest without nightmares in days, and Henry almost can’t bear to disturb him. He crouches down tentatively in front of Alex, trying to determine the best way to rouse him without frightening him. He wonders, vaguely, who taught Alex that touch was something to fear. The very thought fills him with an ache that eats from his stomach into his throat, but he tries to push it away as he rocks from foot to foot hesitantly.

Before he can decide what to do, David decides for him, waddling into the room and curling up on Alex’s legs, ignoring Henry completely.

“Bloody traitor,” Henry grumbles, but it warms his heart to see Alex relax around David’s warm, furry weight. Alex stirs, eyes slowly blinking open. His deep brown eyes, flecked with warmer browns and bits of gold that make Henry want to keep staring at Alex endlessly and bask in the warmth that flows from him like honey, focus instantly on Henry’s. Henry doesn’t dare move, let alone breathe, and is horrified to see Alex’s eyes flood with tears.

“Sweetheart,” Henry whispers, trying to pour all his love for his boyfriend into that single word.

It’s as if Alex doesn’t even hear him, his breath is coming in gasps again, and he sounds frantic, choking on each word before spitting it out. “Henry, I didn’t mean it, I’m so sorry, I know I shouldn’t have gone there, I just, I couldn’t, I didn’t, I promise, please, I – “

“Love,” Henry whispers, inching ever so slowly towards Alex so as not to startle him. “I know. You shouldn’t - I’m sorry. I’m here now. Can I - ?” he asks tentatively, careful to wait for Alex’s permission. Alex nods, sliding down the bathtub, and Henry catches him, scooping him up into his arms.

“I’m so sorry, my love. I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I love you. I love you so much.” 

Alex is weeping now, his entire body shaking under Henry’s fingers, and Henry tries to keep his breath slow and steady, entangling his fingers in those curls he loves so much, hoping the motion will soothe Alex.

“ _H-h-h-h-h-h-enry_ ,” he shakes, fingers gripping onto Henry’s shirt like a vice.

“That’s it, sweetheart. You’re doing so well, my love. I’m going to take you to the bed now, is that okay?”

Henry waits to feel Alex nod into his chest, rubbing soothing circles into his back. He nudges David off of Alex’s legs and folds Alex into his chest, smoothing his hair off of his forehead.

“There we go, darling. Let’s go to bed.”

“S-s-s-s-s-s-orry,” tears out of Alex, his breath violent and heaving.

“You don’t need to say sorry,” Henry whispers, tears burning his eyes. “You’ve done nothing wrong, Alex.”

Henry sets Alex gently on the edge of the bed, and drops down to his knees in front of him, cupping Alex’s face in his hands. Henry’s relieved to feel Alex melt into his touch. 

“Is this okay?,” Henry asks tentatively. He isn’t sure what physical touch feels okay to Alex anymore, after...

Alex nods, finally looking up at him. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth. Henry gently moves in between Alex's knees, slotting himself right where they fit, like two perfect puzzle pieces. Where he can hold Alex that much closer.

“Alex… Pez showed me your…work files.” Henry feels Alex stiffen immediately, so Henry hurries to add: “I’m so sorry you felt you couldn’t tell me, darling. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you, that you had to deal with this all alone. I’m here. I… I see you. I promise. You never have to deal with this alone again.”

Tears fall into Henry’s hands, and Henry smoothes them away with his thumbs. 

“I just – “ Alex begins, then his voice cracks. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, and tries again. “I thought I could – I thought I could save them. All of them. But I can’t. It’s not enough.” A sob rips through Alex’s frame, but he pushes forward. 

“And I just – it’s pressing on me all the time, suffocating me, it’s all around me, it’s there when I look into the mirror, it’s there when I climb into bed with you at night, and I’ll never be enough. _I can’t._ ”

Alex brings his forehead to Henry’s and Henry holds him, moving his hands from Alex’s face to thread into Alex’s curls. Slowly, he moves his mouth just a touch closer to Alex’s, but doesn’t close the gap between them. “You are always enough, my darling. You are everything.” Alex lets out a gasp that’s more of a sob and brings their lips together, surprising Henry. It’s a chaste kiss. But warm, and soft, and salty, and Henry thinks that this is maybe the most intimate thing a couple can share. They break apart, and Henry revels in the proximity to everything that is Alex.

Henry swallows, steels himself, then says, “And whenever you decide…if you want to…tell me…about last night…just know that I – “

Alex interrupts him, so softly Henry almost doesn’t catch it. “Can you just hold me? Please?”

“Always, darling.”

Henry brushes the barest of kisses across the tip of Alex’s nose, under each eye, and once again to the perfect slope of his lips. With each kiss, he repeats, over and over, “You are enough, my love. You are so good. So good, Alex. You will always be enough, I promise.”

Henry lets Alex settle himself into bed, waits for Alex to invite him in, for Alex to curl himself into Henry’s chest. Doesn’t move unless Alex invites it, and begins feels the anxiety in his love relax, ever so slowly. As he buries his face in Alex’s curls, inhaling the intoxicating combination of honey and lavender and what Henry can only assume must be chili pepper, Henry allows his fear to fade away.

Until the next morning, when he wakes to June knocking insistently on their apartment door, late morning light streaming in through the window, and no sign of Alex.

June looks pale, and her fingers are trembling. “Luna called. Alex is asking us to come to a meeting at his office.

Henry is taken aback. “Alex is asking us to come to a meeting in Luna’s office? Why?”

June hesitates. “Something happened…at work this morning. I don’t know, exactly…Luna said something about a new employee. Or an old employee, who's new in Alex's department? I don't know. It doesn’t matter. All I know is Alex needs us.”

Suddenly, Henry can’t get clothes on fast enough. It isn’t until they’re already on the road in the black SUV that June turns to him and says, “Oh. Liam and Chris are also there.”

_Why in the hell is Liam in Rafael Luna’s office?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, black and trans lives matter.
> 
> Apologies for the delay in posting! Life has been insane, I have barely had a second to breathe. Finally, we have Raf! And cuddles.
> 
> Comments and kudos as always appreciated. Please mind the tags and remember you are seen, and loved.
> 
> Much love xx


	10. Blasted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex remembers.
> 
> Friends, new and old, are there to catch him.
> 
> Comments and kudos always appreciated! We are finally moving towards acknowledgement, honesty, and recovery folks!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Sexual assault (no graphic depictions), flashbacks, confronting assailant, remembering trauma, beginnings of an ulcer
> 
> Also Panic attacks, Disassociation, anxiety, PTSD symptoms.
> 
> Believe survivors. Please mind the tags, remember you loved.
> 
> (Yes, the title of this chapter is shamelessly stolen from a Sarah Kane play)

When Alex wakes, Henry’s warm, solid presence beside him soothes the anxiety swirling in his chest. It had felt so good to let Henry in, even just a little bit. To let himself be held. But Alex couldn’t let Henry protect him from the filth that was already long settled inside him, perennially caught under his fingernails and darkening the smudges under his eyes, invisible to the outside eye.

It was better to let Henry remain in the light. And that’s where Alex leaves him, Henry’s long, sinewy limbs tangled in their white sheets, his curls mussed and frizzy. As much as part of Alex would love to stay with Henry there, unguarded, in his own imperfect form, Alex could feel the need, the pull to work harder forcing him out of bed and into a crisp suit. He brushes the lightest of fingers over Henry’s cheek before he leaves, knowing no gesture is big enough to express the love that is often his only calm.

As he steps into the sunlight, he realizes his body feels off-kilter, as if the pieces of him that have been ripped out were all returned to the wrong places. The glare of the sun and the blaring sounds of traffic cut through his too fragile defenses and Alex wants, so badly, to turn around and go back inside and curl up in Henry’s arms.

But he doesn’t. He straightens his shoulders, bolsters his armor, and walks to the car. Relief washes over him when he sees Pez leaning against the door holding two cups of coffee and a brown paper bag.

“I knew you weren’t going to take the day off, so I figured you could use some company for the ride in.”

Alex can’t help but smile as Pez opens the door. “You sure this isn’t an excuse for you to feed me?”

Pez hands him his coffee as he slides in next to him. “What can I say, I’m nothing if not efficient.”

“You’re a devious, plotting Slytherin, is what you are,” Alex mumbles, smiling.

Pez gasps in mock outrage, throwing his hand to his chest. “You wound me. Clearly my color palate is best suited to Ravenclaw.”

Alex looks at Pez’ silver jacket with lime green accents. “You certainly would have given Lovegood a run for her money.

Pez rustles around in the bag on his lap, pulling out utensils. “And you are the epitome of an idiotic, self-sacrificing Gryffindor.”

Alex laughs, as Pez pulls out quiche from a white bakery box. “If you’re going to insist on saving the world, you’re going to eat breakfast first.”

Alex doesn’t even try to complain as Pez somehow procures paper plates from thin air and serves Alex a slice of quiche. It’s good, eggy and filling, the crust buttery in his mouth.

He imagines it filling him up in all the places he feels hollow.

It doesn’t.

Pez tries to give Alex a second slice, but knows from the look on Alex’s face better than to push his luck.

Alex runs his fingers over the files in his briefcase, letting the crisp rush of the paper soothe his thrumming anxiety. He’d get in a couple hours at the office before his afternoon class. He needed to prep for his interview later this week. But plenty of time to work on finalizing his research findings before –

His cell vibrates, interrupting Alex’s careful mental calculations. He pulls it out, only to see a text from Raf.

_Kid. I’m stopping into the office today. Come find me after you get settled. Things to discuss. I brought Skittles._

Alex groans, throwing his phone down on the seat between them. Pez looks worried. “What’s going on?”

“Raf’s stopping in to the office today,” Alex says, by way of explanation.

“And that’s bad because…?”

“He only comes up from D.C. if he has personal meetings or if there are “important things” he needs to discuss in person.”

“And you think he’s not just stopping by to take you out to lunch.”

“Right.” Alex puts his head in his hands, suddenly feeling exhausted. He’d barely gotten his feet back underneath him after this weekend and everything was already spinning out of control. He tries to ignore the growing tightness in his chest.

“I still don’t understand how this all technically works. Why does Raf even have his own office with you guys?”

Alex shrugs. “I mean technically we’re housed as part of a think tank for the DNC, but after I moved up here and started law school and realized just how many politically driven people are actually in Manhattan, Mom thought it would be a good idea to tap into that talent, have people working in tandem with her people down in D.C. on policy research. In many ways we’re more attuned to the on the ground impact, so… And Luna… it helped to have the active interest of a Senator, and you know Raf can’t resist a good pet project.”

“Or keeping an eye on you,” Raf tells him, grinning.

“Sure, like he would let some 26 year old kid majorly impact his political legacy.” Alex loves Raf, hell, for a long time he wanted to _be_ him, but sometimes he got the feeling like Raf still only sees him as the high schooler he used to be when his mom took office. And he just wants to be – he just wants to make sure Raf doesn’t regret betting on him after all.

“Alex. He cares about you. Remember Richards?”

“That was for the presidency. Hell, for America. And after what Richards – “ Alex breaks off, his throat tightening.

“I just don’t understand why you have to be going to law school full time and doing all this work for your mom on the side”

“Don’t you start, too,” Alex sighs. He can feel a headache forming just above his right eye.

“Alright, alright, I won’t.” Pez drops it, and they sit in silence for a long time after that. It’s one of the things Alex likes most about Pez, he never has to be anything, he can just breathe and try to ignore the emotions fighting for control inside him, winding him up tight like a taught bowstring.

“I’m sorry for telling Henry about…” Pez trails off, and Alex looks over to see genuine fear in his eyes. 

“I’m glad you did. We needed – I needed – it helped.”

“Good.”

“We’re still not – I want to be better, for him, but – “

“Alex, I know, it’s okay.”

Alex looks into Pez’ eyes and knows he understands. How hard it is to unfurl those parts of yourself you’ve tucked away for so long.

“I called Liam,” he blurts out in a rush.

“It’s not like – I would never – I just asked him to – he – he knows, and he’s going to come and, come and help me talk about it…”

Alex tries to make his lips move. He wants to tell Pez, he does, but the words are stuck like molasses in his throat and he can’t get them out, it feels like they are choking him, he wants, so badly, to just say it, but he can’t, and –

Pez lays a hand on his knee.

“You don’t have to tell me right now. You don’t owe anybody anything. Every trauma has its own timeline. I’ll be here to listen, whenever you’re ready to tell me. Okay?”

Alex’s eyes inexplicably fill with tears. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Pez just ruffles his hair, but the gesture has so much love in it the thrumming in Alex calms ever so slightly.

The rest of the ride passes quickly after that, and soon Pez is kicking him out of the car with a kiss on the cheek and a smack to his ass. Alex feels better just being back in the building again, the hum of the copiers remind him they’re doing important work, right now, and that Alex is a part of it.

He finds a hot cup of coffee waiting for him on his desk, and as he goes into the morning briefing, a warm hand squeezes his shoulder, ever so slightly, and then lets go. A check in. An _are you okay?_ tap, an _I’m here_ squeeze. Alex looks back to see Chris looking at him worriedly, his eyebrows furrowed, and Alex is grateful. He’s still wary, but a warm rush of gratitude fills him in that moment, to know he has someone in his corner. 

He nods, and Chris doesn’t look convinced, but the meeting’s about to start, so they go find seats while Alex attempts to pump his body with enough caffeine to get through this day. 

He’s not really paying attention as office business is discussed, mentally preparing for their discussion about upcoming policy reports. But then Chris kicks him in the shin, and he hears something about welcoming a new member to the team.

Alex looks up, and time seems to slow down as his heartbeat floods his ears. 

He knows those shoes, he hasn’t seen them since - …

Alex doesn’t want to think about the last time he remembers seeing these shoes. Deep, dark brown, almost red. Alex had been taken with them at first, how bold they were. Pointy at the toe. Swirling, elegant lines ran along the sides, and Alex knew a bronze stripe ran down the heel. _A gentleman’s shoe, Alex recalls distantly._

His heart is pounding so hard the force of it might make him sick, and as if from far away he can feel Chris lay a hand on his arm in question. His whole body has gone violently numb, and Alex is sweating through his jacket, but can’t seem to move, or even think about what he needs to do to take it off. He’s struggling to stay awake, he’s struggling to stay here, and with the rest of the strength he has, Alex drags his eyes up from the floor to the buttons of a pressed white shirt, to the pulsing of a strong, unapologetic Adam’s apple, to a chin confidently encased in dark stubble.

The part of Alex that’s able to think, which may not be Alex, anymore, distantly muses that he’s able to fill it in much better now, as Alex’s eyes follow the sharp jawbone, the small, confident smile of all lips, no teeth – Alex remembers how he thought that was so stupidly attractive and now finds it cold – and Alex is sure he’s drowning, he’s definitely drowning, because he finally looks into those eyes and he realizes.

He’d forgotten. Or he’d tried not to remember. But his eyes are blue. Just like Henry’s, the destructive part of his brain supplies, and even though he can see they’re not, they’re more a grey blue whereas Henry’s are an endless bottomless ocean blue, still, they’re blue, and Alex finally manages to open his lips because couldn’t his eyes be any other color and he wants to scream and cry and run but he has to stay sitting there, and that’s when Alex notices that those eyes are looking right at Alex.

_Felix._

_Felix is looking right at Alex._

And time stops after that. And Chris’ arm is still on his because Alex is pretty sure he’s trembling but he can’t actually feel anything anymore, not really, and that’s when Felix opens his mouth and gestures to Alex, saying, “Yeah, I actually used to work with Alex, back in D.C.”.

And someone is saying how crazy it is that the world is such a small place but Alex’s ears are ringing and Chris’ hand has tightened painfully on his arm and that’s when Alex realizes he is shaking so badly he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe anymore with those eyes on him, so he stumbles up and says he forgot he had an early meeting with Senator Luna, could he just – and he walks on trembling legs straight and tall, because he will not give him the satisfaction, even though the feeling of his eyes following him makes Alex want to rip the skin off the back of his neck.

And Alex is falling into the bathroom, the fluorescent lights making his head swim, and Cash is holding him, hugging him, and Alex clings to him like he’s the last fucking life raft, and Alex remembers, he remembers, that night, falling out of the door of the apartment, sobbing, blood running down his legs, everything hurt, and Cash catching him, holding him, Alex making him promise not to tell, begging him to please not tell his mom, saying he was _sorry sorry sorry_ , and Cash holding him, and crying too. Cash’s tears mixing with Alex’s tears as he ran his coarse thumbs over Alex’s cheeks and saying he was sorry, Alex felt the anguish rumble through his whole body, Cash saying that he should’ve known, should’ve protected Alex, and Alex clinging to him tighter, and Cash promising him it would all be okay. Somehow. They would be okay. Then taking him to Raf.

Cash _knew. Cash had known._ Alex wasn’t alone.

Alex remembers.

Alex remembers the dim lighting of the coffee shop when Felix had reached over the first time and wiped milk foam off the top of Alex’s lip. How he had touched Alex as if he was something precious.

He remembers the light of challenge in Felix’s eyes in the flashing lights of the club, how he had pulled Alex closer to him, running his hands up Alex’s back possessively.

He remembers how something in his face had softened when Alex admitted to him he’d never been with a man, not properly. How he’d tugged Alex into the bedroom and shoved him onto the bed, hard.

Alex remembers staring at those shoes, that bronze line on the heel, trying to ignore how Felix pinned his wrists down or licked a stripe up his neck no matter how hard he tried to fight – 

Alex buries his head in Cash’s chest and weeps, Cash stroking his curls back from his forehead.

Cash holds him gently as he vomits over and over and over again, as if he can eject it out of himself postmortem, until he finally brings up blood.

He stares, unseeing, at Chris crouching in front of him, saying something Alex cannot hear. He reaches out and grips to his shirt like a vice, breathing in the comforting smell of cigars and safety and things that remind him of home.

Alex doesn’t want anyone touching him except for Cash, and Cash practically carries him out of the bathroom. Alex tries to tell them he doesn’t want to see Raf, not now, not like this, but Cash simply hums and says they can’t stay on the bathroom floor all day.

Alex feels his heart beating faster than he thought possible under his ribs, shallow and scared. He closes his eyes. Tries to wish it all away like a bad dream.

The deep, mellow sound of honey, of _Texas_ , drifts into his ears, and for a second he thinks he’s succeeded.

“Alex?”

Alex opens his eyes and sees Liam – tousled hair, tan, face drawn with worry – looking like he’s run directly from the airport.

“Jesus Christ, Alex, are you alright? I came as fast as I could – what happened?”

Alex is so touched by the love, the care, of this good man, that he can’t speak, shakes his head, simply reaches out and places his fingertips on Liam’s chest.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

“Alex – “ 

But before he can get any further, an office door swings open, and Rafael Luna steps out. He looks horrible – exhausted, with giant bags under his eyes, hair sticking up in every direction.

“Let’s move this party instead, shall we?”

He turns to Alex, and his gaze softens, overtaken by a deep sorrow. 

“Hey, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Black lives matter today and every day.
> 
> Please, please vote.
> 
> Rest in peace RBG and let us forever remember her legacy. 
> 
> \--
> 
> All this said - did I take creative license and make up some totally fake think tank policy group connected to the white house so Alex could do this work but could be in Brooklyn with his bae Henry and the shelter? Indeed. However, there is a very real think tank for the DNC. Cheers, all!


	11. The Breaking (Fever)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay on this chapter, I struggled a lot with how much of the past to bring into the present re Luna and his first real convo with Alex. 
> 
> I decided, that in the end, Alex deserves to be in charge of the narrative, so in the meantime, ambiguity still is a key player depending on the perspective.
> 
> CW: Flashbacks, disassociation, panic attacks and grounding techniques, general anxiety and panic, self-hatred, self-blame. Mind the tags and know you're loved!
> 
> \--
> 
> Raf and Alex have a long-overdue conversation.
> 
> So do Henry and Alex.
> 
> Raf POV, then Henry POV.

Raf remembers being the only one who looked like him in Richards’ office. He remembers hearing the stories. Of the staffers he would bring back to his office. Always young, always male. None of them ever said anything. Because saying something would be admitting you were a fag, admitting you were a deviant, admitting you were dirty…

So Raf kept his head down, and tried to avoid attracting attention. But it didn’t matter. In the end, Raf knew Richards would take what he wanted.

Raf remembers watching Alex and wondering, if maybe Alex is like him, if maybe, he can be the person for Alex to talk to, so he doesn’t lose his way. But Raf doesn’t want to push him, he sees how hard Alex fights to keep everything from bursting out of him, so he waits.

He waits too long. And then Alex in his office, shaking and silent and bruised, and then Raf is sitting on one of those hard plastic chairs under the buzzing fluorescent lights as Alex gets treated, thinking he should’ve seen this coming, he should’ve protected him, and instead he did nothing.

He shows Alex how to tuck that broken piece far away, deep down, so you can keep working, keep going, because that’s what they have to do. Alex refused to become painted as a victim and Raf wouldn’t let that happen. Instead, he fights the only way he knows how.

Here, now, with Alex back in his office, Raf wonders if he’s being haunted by the ghost of his failures. Whether his failure to Alex, or to himself, or to queer Latinx boys growing up in this fractured and imperfect world, he doesn’t know, but for the first time in a very long time, Raf doesn’t want to keep his head down. Raf wants to scream, ugly and loud and angry.

He doesn’t. Instead, he says quietly, “I’d like a word with Alex please. Privately.” He feels warmth bubble in his chest as he looks at these defiant, strong men ready to fight for Alex if need be, but they agree without argument, Cash the last to leave, laying a hand on Alex’s shoulder as he slips out the door. Cash can see him standing directly behind it, the door cracked open just a fraction, just in case. Cash has always looked out for Alex.

He pulls his desk chair over to Alex and sits in front of him. Alex isn’t looking at him, he isn’t looking anywhere at all, and Raf knows that feeling all too well, of being trapped inside some past ache you can’t get out of.

“I’m sorry, kid.” 

Alex’s eyes focus on him ever so slowly. He’s still not completely in the room with him, Raf can tell, but it’s a start.

“They let me know he was coming this morning but I couldn’t do anything about it, not without giving them a reason why.”

Alex’s eyes meet his for just a second, then flicker away. 

_Raf remembers sitting in similar places several years ago, the way Alex had shut down when Raf told him that Alex would need to press charges, if he wanted Felix out of the political sphere. How the story would likely play in the media, the attention it would get. Alex would never escape it._

_Alex had looked up at him then, and asked Raf what he had done. Raf felt sick just thinking about it. “I kept my head down. Tried to…help others, instead.”_

_Alex’s eyes had shone with tears. “And he’ll…”_

_“He can sign the standard NDA. Your Secret Service can make sure he stays away from you. But if we make it into something…”_

_Raf tried to ignore the guilt that clamped down on his throat as a tear slid down Alex’s cheek. “People will talk.”_

_“Yes.”_

_Alex sat there for a long time. “I don’t want him to define me. I’m not even… Just – let’s do it your way.”_

_“You’re sure?”_

_“Yeah, let’s just – as long as I don’t have to work with him again…”_

Raf desperately wishes he could go back and make a different decision, tell Alex that there’s no shame in what happened to him. For Alex, for himself, for all the people like them who suffer in silence because they think they have to.

Alex lets out a broken sob, and for the first time, Raf notices how thin he looks. He remembers not being able to eat for weeks after, scrubbing himself raw in the shower.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Raf leans forward and slowly puts a hand on Alex’s knee. He’s relieved that Alex doesn’t flinch away. “I know. It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry, Raf.”

“No, mijo, I should never have – this is my fault, okay? This is nothing to be ashamed of. It’s never been something you should have been ashamed of. And the world today…it’s so different from when I was – “

“I just feel so…broken,” Alex chokes out, and Raf can’t help but pull him into a hug, this boy who may just as well be his own son, as Alex weeps into Raf’s shirt. Raf rocks him and hums softly. “I know…I know…you’ll find it again…I promise.”

Suddenly the door opens, and Henry bursts in, searching frantically for Alex, and Alex jumps back, startled. Cash is hot on his heels with an apology but Raf waves him off, telling him to send the rest of them in. He’d prefer to have more processing time with just Alex, but didn’t want to raise suspicions with this many people out in the hallway. 

Henry crouches on his knees next to Alex and reaches for his hand. “May I?", he asks softly. 

Alex hesitates, then nods, and Henry quickly slips his fingers through his, rubbing circles into Alex’s palm. “What’s going on, darling?”

Raf can see the panic flash over Alex’s face, but he’s saved from answering by everyone else – June, Pez, Liam, Cash, and Chris – filing in. Everyone seems to want to flock towards Alex but doesn’t actually know what to do with themselves.

Raf gestures at the unused chairs scattered around the office. “How about we all take a seat?”

Henry stays by Alex’s side, and Cash remains by the door, but everyone else sits down, albeit reluctantly.

Alex, Raf notices, is shaking.

“Love…” Henry says, tightening his grip on Alex’s hand. “What’s Liam doing here?”

Raf watches as Alex curls tighter and tighter into himself. 

“I told Liam…a long time ago…about…because…and he thought I could…that he could be here for support.”

The way Alex’s voice cracks on that last word cuts into Raf hard, and he sees Henry try to hide the hurt on his face, but he doesn’t manage it fast enough.

“I’m sorry,” Alex says, tears shining in his eyes again.

“Alex is one of my closest friends, and I’m just here to help.” Liam pipes up from the corner, firm and comforting.

Henry seems to battle with himself for a second then lets out a breath. “No, I’m sorry, I trust you sweetheart, I just want to know – “

“No, this is all my fault, I let this happen, I let him in, fuck – “

Alex grips his hair hard and curls around himself. Raf sees his breath picking up and knows, _knows_ Alex is being assaulted by a deluge of memories. Henry tries to take Alex's hands away from his face but Alex won’t let him.

Raf quickly crosses the room and gets onto his knees in front of Alex, moving Henry aside without preamble. “Alex, I want you to listen to me.”

“I – “

“Trust me, Alex. Just listen to me, and tell me five things you can hear.”

“I can’t – “

“Five things you can hear, Alex.”

“Your voice.”

“Good…”

“The radiator humming…. Liam tapping his shoe…. Henry, playing with his shirt buttons…. Cash typing on his phone.”

“And five things you can smell.”

Skittles…and June’s perfume...and….cigars….and….printer toner…and…Henry.”

“Five things you can feel.”

“My tie, around my neck, and sweat, running down my back, and…the floor beneath my feet…and the chair under me, and my mouth…is dry.”

“Good, Alex. And five things you can see.”

Alex opens his eyes finally, his breathing calmer now.

“Your gray hair, the stains on your tie…” His eyes flick around the room. “People who love me.”

“Better?” Alex nods, and Raf watches him for a moment, then stands. “Cash, could you get Alex some water?” He waits until Cash is back in the room, and then rips open the Skittles absentmindedly, sighing.

“I asked Henry and June here because we’re going to need to make a decision.”

“I already told you – “ Alex begins.

“Could someone explain what’s going on?” Henry asks, nonplussed.

June looks at Alex. “Is this who I think it’s about?”

Alex looks at the floor.

“Does everyone know what’s happening except for me?” Henry asks again, frustrated.

“Raf, I already said – “

“I know Alex, but we need to talk about what that means. What you want to do. What happens…afterwards.”

Alex is quiet for a long moment. “I want to talk to him.”

Immediately, Cash blocks the door, June vehemently tells Alex that’s absolutely, unequivocally, not happening, and both Chris and Liam look ready to tackle Alex if they have to.

Alex only has eyes for Raf.

“Raf,” he whispers quietly. “Please.”

Raf didn’t think it was possible for his heart to break any more, but in this moment, he’s not sure he can take any more of this. He gets the desperation pulsing through Alex.

“Trust me, kid, you’re not going to find what you think you’re looking for. I know.”

“This could be different.”

“It won’t.”

“They’re all the same, Alex. All of them.”

“I need to know why,” Alex says, a tear breaking free.

“Sometimes, you can’t know.”

Alex growls in frustration and for a minute Raf worries he’s going to throw something. 

“Then I’m going back to work.”

“No. Alex, for once, you and I, we’re not going to just run ourselves into the ground, listen to me – “

Alex tries to push past him and head for the door, wanting to leave this conversation behind, but Raf doesn’t let him. He holds on. He holds him.

“Stop fighting me.”

Alex pushes him and tries to break free, but Raf just hugs him tighter. “Raf, let go!”

“No.”

“Stop it! Just stop it _stopitstopitsitopitstopitstopitstopitstopitstopitstopitstopitstopit - … please. Make it stop_.”

Raf lets Alex scream and yell and rail against his body until there’s no fight left anymore, until Alex can let some of the rage that’s eating him up inside go.

Alex sags against him and Raf suddenly feels so, so tired, the shocked silence of the room pressing in on them both.

“Let’s get you home. Then we can all – let’s get you home.”

\--

Rafael Luna is standing in their kitchen making waffles. Waffles. Wearing the apron of Michaelangelo’s David Pez had gotten them once as a gag gift. Henry supposes on any other day this would have been too much for his brain to handle, but the only person Henry has any brain space for right now is Alex.

The pieces are all starting to fit together, for Henry. Except, it doesn’t make sense, it’s impossible, it makes Henry want to vomit and smash all their dishes and – and Alex would have told him, right? 

But Alex is sitting staring into his cup of coffee and he looks…exhausted. It is as if his light has been entirely snuffed out, and he is a shadow of his former self. 

And Henry doesn’t know what to do, because for the first time in three years together, he realizes he has no idea how to give Alex what he needs. And that terrifies him. 

So he watches Rafael Luna make waffles, standing against their kitchen counter, as everyone else sits and waits. No one tries to make awkward small talk. The apartment is quiet except for the hiss of butter on the hot pan and the whir of the whisk.

When Rafael has directed everyone to sit at the table, serving a steaming plate of waffles, an uneasy silence settling over their dining table, Alex pushes away his plate, addressing Luna instead.

“I’ll have to make a statement.”

Alex’s face, normally so open, is shuttered and impossible to read. Luna’s face becomes filled with an impossible sadness.

“Yes.”

“He’ll…say it wasn’t – “

“Probably.”

Alex swallows hard. “Can we…can we…tie it to…raising awareness and addressing the backlog and getting better support infrastructures?”

A flash of something broken crossed over Luna’s face, then vanished. “Alex…”

“If I’m going to do this – “

Henry can’t take it anymore. He stands, his chair screeching harshly on the floor. Crossing over to Alex, he drops to his knees where Alex sits hunched over, lacing Alex’s fingers in his. He tries to ignore the stab of hurt that cuts him when Alex flinches back at his touch.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Please. Just tell me. It can’t be worse than what’s in my head.”

Alex can’t seem to look at him. His eyes are darting around almost frantically, panicking.

“Henry, I – “ he breaks off, a choked noise rising from his throat. 

“Should we give you some privacy,” June asks quietly. 

Alex shakes his head, biting his lips so hard they turn white, and Henry can see moisture clumping in his thick, dark lashes.

“No, I – it’s better you’re all here.” He attempts a smile but can’t quite manage it. Henry watches as Alex kneads his hands together hard, and moves away, to sit on the back of the leather armchair, trying to give Alex space. The rest of them quietly follow his lead, sprawling out through their cozy lived in living room, giving up the charade that anyone has an appetite.

Alex opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again. “I – fuck, I don’t know how to – “ He yanks at his curls in frustration. Henry wonders when Alex started doing that. He wonders how he didn't notice.

“Alex… maybe…do you want to start by telling them what you told me?” Alex looks at Liam for a long moment.

“Yeah…I can…okay.”

And then Alex starts to speak, slowly at first, but then faster, the words tripping over each other, as if a dam had broken. Henry had no idea Alex felt this way, obviously he knew he’d been confused about his sexuality but…this shame and grief and loathing that’s been locked up inside of him makes Henry want to scream, and hold Alex, and tell him just how perfect and beautiful and _enough_ he is.

Alex is choking back a sob. “And then I found Henry, and Henry was the first time I chose, really got to choose, wanted to choose, was with someone who let me – who made me feel like I was _enough_ , and I – “

Henry's chest aches with an impossible aching everything. He wants to give Alex everything.

“Sorry, Liam, I didn’t mean - ”

“No, Alex, I’m sorry. I wish we could have talked about our feelings instead of drowning them in booze.”

Alex huffs a small laugh. 

But Henry still doesn’t understand.

June beats him to it. “Alex, what about…?”

Alex looks at her then, and the pain in his eyes is undeniable. Henry wants to fix this, he’ll do anything, whatever it is.

“You knew, didn’t you?”

“I just guessed…that something might have…happened. You…changed.”

Alex looks down at his hands. “Yeah.”

He looks just at Henry now, with those beautiful brown eyes Henry loves so much, and Henry hopes Alex knows just how much he loves him.

“I – I’m so sorry, baby.”

“No, Alex, you don’t need to– “

“You’re gonna know now, and I understand if you can’t – “

“Alex, I love – “

“There was…someone else, before…before.” 

Henry’s heart stops.

“I was…I was still trying to get on Luna’s campaign, and he was working for another senator, and we were just friends, at first. Maybe I knew it was more than that. I don’t – I don’t know. We started hanging out, seeing each other outside of work, and one night he asked me to come over to his apartment and I didn’t… we were just having dinner, and then…” Alex closes his eyes. “He… things got – they got… out of hand.”

Cash makes a wounded noise but Alex barrels on now, almost not making sense.

“I went and got…examined…and they…the hospital has all the…it’s all classified.”

“What I don’t understand…” Liam says slowly, “is how he’s allowed to be in the same building with you, let alone request to work there.”

Henry can barely hear over the blood roaring in his ears. “What?”

He’s standing before he even realizes what he’s doing.

“That’s what Alex and I were discussing,” Luna interjects calmly, standing to try and steady Henry.

“Who is he?” Henry demands, because he’s never been a violent person, but now, in this moment, he wants this man to pay for whatever it is he’s done to his Alex.

“Hen-“ Pez tugs at his arm, trying to get him to calm down, but Henry can’t calm down, someone is hurting Alex –

“Who is he?” Henry demands again, because he needs to know, he needs –

“His name is Felix,” Alex says softly, his voice cracking only slightly. Henry is surprised to find Alex looking straight at him, to see all the pain and regret and sorrow swimming in his brown eyes. Henry tries to pretend his world isn’t dropping out from underneath him, that he isn’t drowning amidst one hundred terrible possibilities, because this is about Alex.

“Felix,” Henry says, testing it, trying not to make it sound like bile in his throat.

“Yes.” Alex looks so impossibly sad, and Henry wants more than anything to scoop him up away from all of this.

“And why – “ Henry begins.

“Because Felix only signed an NDA, five years ago, we couldn’t reject his application without…a reason. He’s a good fit, bright, knowledgeable like Alex in terms of how D.C. works”, Luna explains.

Henry wants to snarl at the implication of Luna comparing…this man…and his Alex, but he holds his tongue.

“He’s big enough in Manhattan that turning him away would’ve caused…chatter.”

“So I’m going to have to…say something. But if I’m going to do this, if everyone has to know,” Alex’s eyes look impossibly red and it takes all of Henry’s strength to hold in his own tears, ”I wanna do this right.”

“We’re going to need to bring Zahra in on this,” Luna continues, “and Alex…you’re going to need to tell your family.”

Alex looks down at his feet, and whispers something Henry can’t hear. Luna crosses over to him, and takes Alex face in his hands.

“If we’re doing this…you’re going to go see a therapist. That’s my only condition. I have someone you can see…who…they have helped me for a long time.”

“You promise it’ll actually help make this…” Alex whispers.

Henry heart shatters. How had he not seen how his partner was suffering? How had he been so fucking blind? He isn’t the only one, because June rushes over and buries Alex in her arms, apologizing over and over. Pez has put his arm around his shoulders, Henry knows that distantly, but he can’t actually feel it. He still doesn’t understand…what actually…does Alex still…want to be with him? How can he help Alex through this, when he’s done everything wrong so far?

He’s moving to Alex before he even registers what he’s doing, kneeling again in front of where Alex still has his head buried in June’s shoulder, prostrating himself for… forgiveness? A second chance? Henry isn’t sure. But all these images are flashing through his mind, of all the ways this man could have hurt Alex, and it’s making him sick, it’s making him –

“Sweetheart.”

June, to his surprise, smiles at him and kisses Alex head one more time before unraveling herself from Alex, squeezing Henry’s shoulder as she goes to sit with Pez instead.

“Sweetheart – “

Alex can barely look at him, and Henry hates himself, he’s sure Alex hates him, hates the tears he knows are running down his cheeks right now but he can’t fight them anymore, and Alex is crying too –

“I’m so sorry, Henry.”

“No.” His own ferocity surprises him, but he keeps going, grabbing Alex’s hand to tether himself, tether them to each other. “You have nothing to apologize for, do you understand me?”

“But I – “

“This is not your fault, Alex. You are everything to me, you hear me?” 

Alex’s lip wobbles and Henry aches to cup Alex’s cheek but he holds back. “I’m dirty. Stained. You see it now – how dirty I make you – “

“Shh, sweetheart, no, you’re perfect, it doesn’t matter – “

“It’s everywhere, on everything, you’ll see it too and then – “

The words are out before he can stop himself, tumbling over each other in his own panic and fear, because Alex is terrifying him, making him see so many different ways he could have been hurt, flashing through Henry’s head at a sickening speed.

I just – I’m sorry, darling, I just – don’t understand…what exactly…happened.”

Alex’s hand twitches but Henry holds on tighter to let him know that he still loves him, will always love him, he just can’t get these images out of his head and Alex is pulling away from him now but he needs to know – 

“Would you…I mean…would you tell me what happened?”

Henry can feel Alex trembling. His eyes, a moment ago so open, have now shuttered, become blank, face impassive.

“I told you, I, he – I don’t see why – “

“I’m sorry darling, I’m so sorry, I just keep seeing all these – images – all these possibilities of you hurting and I thought maybe if we could talk about it – “

The words are out before he can stop himself.

“Did he…I mean… did he force himself on you?”

Henry can almost feel Alex stop breathing.

Alex stands abruptly, pushing Henry away. His breath is coming in gasps and his hands come up to grab his hair.

“I can’t – I can’t – fuck, I can’t – “ Alex is running his hands over his arms and his chest like he’s trying to convince himself his own body is real, and Henry could kick himself for being so selfish, asking Alex to dig deeper into a wound that’s already so vulnerable.

“Alex, it’s okay – “ Henry reaches for his hand to try and ground him but Alex stumbles backwards, lost to him.

“No, it’s my fault, Henry, it’s my fault – “

“Alex, easy, you need to breathe, okay?" Luna pushes past Henry, trying to reach Alex.

“No, no, I need to get it out, I need – “ Henry can see that Alex is going somewhere dark, somewhere they can’t reach him, something Henry’s never seen before. All because he couldn’t do this right, couldn’t be what Alex needed - 

“Alex, what if I run you a bath? Would that help?” Pez, this time. Who always seems to know the right thing to do, the right way to reach Alex – 

Alex stills. 

“Come on, let’s go get you clean.”

Alex nods, 

"Yeah, okay.”

Henry watches Pez lead Alex gently up the stairs.

Henry feels exhausted, wrecked, sick with himself and for Alex, and he doesn’t even realize he’s on the floor sobbing softly until he feels June’s arms around him.

“Hey, hey, it’s gonna be okay…”

“I always do the wrong thing, I always say the wrong thing, just the thought of him – “ Henry tries to ignore the bile in his throat.

“I know, I know, you hate to see him like this, I do too, it’s…horrible.” June’s voice cracks. But he loves you, Henry.”

“But I think I caused this, I think I triggered him, or – “

“Trauma comes up on its own timeline, Henry.” Luna’s deep voice is inherently soothing. 

“And this trauma has to do with intimacy, which means… it was going to come up, eventually. You are going to have to work through it together and there are days you’ll get things wrong and days you’ll get things right, but that’s all part of the process. Like I told Alex…I’m not a betting man, but if I was… you two will be okay. It’ll make you stronger.”

“I just wanna hold him,” Henry whispers.

“Your instincts were spot on,” Luna reassures him gently. “Start by holding his hand, and when he’s ready, he’ll let you in.”

Henry takes a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. I can do that.” He looks up at Luna. “Thank you. His throat closes up. “For everything.”

Luna smiles at him sadly. “I wanted to make sure no one would with have to do what I did… alone. I just wish… I would give anything for that kid. But I know, I know, that he’s going to make sure there’s a way to speak out, that we don’t just have to suffer in silence anymore. And I know you, I know you’ll stand by his side the whole way.”

For the first time, something like hope sparks in Henry’s chest, faint but undeniable. A way to see through this darkness.

“By him…speaking out…I wish I could protect him from it, because it’s gonna be…brutal…but he might just change the world, for all the kids just like us who don’t know they need it yet. And maybe this’ll all be worth it.”

“I hope so,” Henry says softly.

Raf pulls him into a hug, squeezing him hard.

“Just take it one day at a time. Don’t let these bastards take all this away from you. You’ve both fought so hard, for this.”

As Henry climbs the stairs, he thinks, one day at a time, one day at a time. He could do that, right? Raf’s words of confidence swim in his eyes, as he tries to force images of Alex and Felix up and out of his mind. He has to do this. For Alex. He has to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally get some protective Henry, and Raf!
> 
> Henry and Alex need to figure out how to deal with this together, and it will be a struggle for both of them, but love always prevails. And therapy!
> 
> Also - the next chapter will feature soft bois and bathtime cuddles, actual proper cuddles this time, can confirm. The wait will be worth it.
> 
> Believe survivors, and please vote - your voice matters! 
> 
> Comments and kudos always appreciated, sending love to all! xx


	12. The Cool Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for hanging in there despite the delay! This one's a little short, it was gonna be longer, but I decided to split the fluff & cuddles / then the more serious convo into two separate chapters instead of one long one.
> 
> Bathtub cuddles with the boys. Henry & Alex take a step forward.

As Henry cautiously walks into their bedroom, he hears Pez adopt the drawling, aristocratic tone of what sounds like… Draco Malfoy?

_“You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments.”  
“Yeah,” said Harry, “but you, unlike me, are a git.”_

He hears a soft chuckle from Alex and his heart lightens a little. Peaking through the bathroom door, he sees Pez sprawled next to the tub with Order of the Phoenix on his lap, and Alex curled up in the bath still wearing his t-shirt and boxers. Henry tries to ignore how much the sight tugs at his heart, how vulnerable Alex must feel.

Pez, of course, spots him in the doorway. “Hen, come join us. I was just providing Alex with some classic Drarry angst.”

Alex looks up at him hesitantly. “Hey, baby,” he says softly.

“Hi.” They stand there staring at each other. Henry doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

“Well, I think that’s my cue to leave,” Pez gets up from the floor, breaking the silence. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, alright?” He puts a hand gently on Alex’s head for a moment, giving Henry a small smile. After he leaves, Henry can’t help but notice how small Alex looks, sitting there. 

“Alex, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked – “

“It’s okay, Henry,” Alex interrupts him quietly. “It’s okay.” From the steady, serious look in his brown eyes, Henry knows he means it.

“Darling,” Henry crosses over to the tub, reaching out a hand before he can stop himself. “May I?”

Alex nods ever so slightly. Henry caresses Alex’s cheek gently, relieved to see his eyes flutter closed at Henry’s touch. 

“I’m so sorry, my love.” Henry tries to hide the tightness in his voice but he can’t quite manage it.

Alex shakes his head, almost nuzzling into Henry’s hand, as Henry moves his hand slowly to run through Alex’s curls. “I hurt you.”

“No,” Alex breathes out, finally looking at Henry now. “I should’ve told you.”

“I won’t ever hurt you again, Alex. I promise.”

Alex interlaces their fingers gently. 

“I know.” Alex’s eyes flicker away, as if he’s embarrassed, but Henry’s fingers catch his chin, hold it in place.

“What is it?”

“I – “ Alex clears his throat, his cheeks coloring slightly. “Could you – Henry, would you hold me?”

Henry’s heart aches at the quiver in those words. He brushes his lips gently against Alex’s forehead. “Of course, sweetheart. You never have to ask.”

He hesitates, remembering Alex’s clothes, then deciding to bollox it all, he takes off his shoes and socks, and climbs in fully clothed, jeans, button down, everything. 

“I’m sorry,” Alex whispers.

“I don’t care, love. Whatever makes you comfortable.” Alex makes a noise that sounds a little like a sob at that, so Henry settles himself behind Alex, spreading his legs so Alex can fit between them.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah.” Alex settles into Henry’s chest, and Henry slowly moves so his arms cover Alex’s arms, their fingers interlace together, his legs hold Alex’s, and his chin rests gently in the crook of Alex’s neck.

“You can relax, darling. You’re safe now. I’ve got you. I promise.”

Alex doesn’t say anything, but as Henry talks mindlessly about the Audre Lorde poetry he’s reading, the new song Bea’s working on, the next event he’s working on planning for the shelter, he can feel the tension slowly start to melt out of Alex’s limbs. Alex buries his face in Henry’s chest, and Henry holds him, and they stay there until the water cools and all the bubbles have gone. Henry thinks that Alex might be asleep, his eyes have fluttered closed, as Henry gently runs a hand through his hair. But as he goes to lift Alex gently, his eyes flutter open.

There is an intensity, a burning, an undeniable something lighting those eyes that Henry has only seen once before.

“Henry.”

“Are you alright, love?”

Alex brings his hand to cup Henry’s face. “Thank you.” His voice is choked, and Henry can see the wetness coating his thick lashes.

“Alex – “

“I love you,” Alex says, with such intensity and fervor and determination that Henry thinks his heart might beat out of his chest.

“I love you too,” Henry whispers.

“So, so much,” Alex continues, and then Alex is kissing him, ferociously, Henry feels electricity light up between them as Alex nips his bottom lip and Henry moans into Alex’s mouth. They are kissing so fiercely there’s hardly any need for air, there’s just _Alex, Alex, Alex, Alex_ is consuming him, Henry’s hands running up Alex’s back, grabbing at Alex’s ass, Alex’s hands yanking at Henry’s hair in a way that makes Henry cry out with pleasure.

“Baby,” Alex pants, as he straddles Henry’s lap, yanking him into another bruising kiss, beginning to rock back and forth on Henry’s thigh, desperate for friction, as his fingers reach for Henry’s cock. 

Alex strokes Henry hard and fast, and Henry moans, “Oh, Alex, oh Christ, yes, just like that,” as Alex’s thighs begin to shake as he rubs back and forth desperately and Henry begins to lift him up and slide him back down, faster and harder.

“Hen, _nggh_ , Henry, please – “

Alex’s eyes are beginning to roll back in his head and he’s stroking Henry even faster and Henry can feel the orgasm beginning to build in his belly but he wants Alex to come first.

“You’re going to come just like this, aren’t you sweetheart? Completely untouched, just from me, aren’t you?

“Yes, baby, please, I need it – “ Alex is grinding on him with abandon now, cock hard and weeping, but his eyes are focused solely on Henry, glittery and filled with a kind of desperation and wildness that comes back to Henry in a flash. Just like the night Alex begged Henry to fuck him. 

Henry is filled with a sickening dread, and he puts his hands on Alex’s chest, stilling him.

“Baby? What’s – what’s wrong?”

He tries to pull Henry in for another kiss but Henry gently presses him away. 

“Alex…sweetheart… I think we should stop.”

“Stop? You don’t want to – “ Alex’s face goes completely blank, his eyes glassy.

“Just for right now,” Henry adds quickly.

Alex pulls away from Henry completely, and Henry mourns his warmth. “You don’t want me anymore,” he whispers, and fuck, if he doesn’t sound completely shattered.

Henry realizes where Alex’s mind is going and tries to stop it, but he’s too late. “Alex, no – “ 

Alex is climbing out of the tub, dripping all over the floor. “You see the filth on me now, of course you do, see that I’m used and tainted, why would you want me to make you dirty too – “

His heaving breaths are broken up by choked sobs as Alex grips his curls hard. Henry approaches him cautiously, unsure if he’s here or there.

“Alex, love, please listen to me.” Alex stills but doesn’t look at Henry. “I will always want you. Nothing, and I mean nothing could change that. I love you, and I want you, it’s just – “ He hesitates. “After everything you went through today, I was afraid…I didn’t want to hurt you again. I just think, maybe, we should take it slow, and see when you feel like you’re ready.”

Alex slowly turns to face him, tears trickling down his face. “You don’t think I’m dirty?”

“Never, love, I promise.” Henry wishes Alex could see himself the way Henry sees him. Brilliant and beautiful and sexy and _everything_.

“I’m sorry.”

“I think we both need to stop apologizing.”

“Yeah,” Alex mumbles.

Alex crosses to him suddenly and hugs him hard, Henry is surrounded by Alex, and love, and nothing else. Henry hugs him back, and they stand there for a long time, buried in each other.

“H? Can we…go to bed?”

Henry kisses the top of Alex’s nose, and that night, when Alex curls into Henry’s chest, and Henry holds him close, Henry thinks that just maybe, they might be okay.


	13. Heat-Induced Hallucinations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex opens up to Henry about his past. Henry is there to listen. A step towards catharsis and healing.
> 
> Alex POV, then Henry POV.  
>  **  
> CW: Description of sexual assault (IF THIS IS TRIGGERING PLEASE SKIP THIS CHAPTER, TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF ALWAYS!) and resulting physical injury, panic attacks, self-blame, survivor guilt, mild self-harming behavior, dissociation, flashbacks, brief description of sexual assault forensic exam  
> **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **As noted in the chapter summary - this chapter contains a description of sexual assault from Alex. This will be the only time the assault is described in detail / in full - if this is triggering, please skip the chapter! You will be able to follow along in the next without a problem if you skip this one.**
> 
> Also - Alex's self blame / survivor guilt is a common response among survivors, but to be clear, it is never the survivor's fault. Even if they didn't explicitly vocalize the word 'no', it still does not make the encounter consensual: there are many other non-verbal signals that communicate clearly whether this is a desired interaction or not. Without clear, continuous, and enthusiastic consent, sexual encounters cannot and should not proceed. It is also very common for survivors to freeze in the midst of the assault, and just because they "didn't defend themselves" this doesn't make them in any way at fault. The psychological term for this is called flight, fight, or freeze; which explains how in addition to the two gut impulses of fight or flight, there is also freeze, which happens especially when trauma is either being repeated or reenacted. Lastly, a common example used by psychologists to compare the ideas about blame is this: if a person was walking around in a nice coat late at night with money in their wallet, and got robbed at gunpoint, would you blame them for not defending themselves? Of course not. This is no different than an incident of sexual assault. Believe survivors, and take care! xx

Alex doesn't sleep. Kept awake by thoughts pressing too hard against his skull, demanding his attention. But this time, he stays, he allows himself the comfort of Henry’s warm embrace, his head on Henry’s chest, steadying himself against the unfailing rhythm of Henry’s even breaths, and the thud of Henry's heartbeat, Henry’s hand in his hair, as Henry dreams of a world Alex hopes is better than this one. 

Alex reminds himself to breathe. He breathes and breathes and breathes because otherwise the thoughts will become too much and he wants to stay wrapped in Henry, where he’s safe.

For the first time in days, in years, he lets himself remember. More than just flashes or the ghost of brushes against his skin. He lets it flood through his brain, all consuming, paralyzing him, pressing on him from all sides, but Henry is there, and Henry is holding him, and Henry is real, and he reminds himself he is here here here in bed with Henry, Henry, Henry who picked out their sheets because he knows Alex is inexplicably calmed by the color blue, who smells like a crisp fall day where the air is just biting enough to make you feel alive, mixed with the rusty tang of ink, not that sickly sweet cloying scent that made his head swim and clung to his skin no matter how hard he tried to scrub it off, until the water running into the shower drain tinted red.  
He’s in their sheets, in their bed, with Henry, even as silent tears trickle unbidden across his face.

He buries himself in Henry until the first streaks of sunlight sneak through their window. The light calls to him as he slips out of Henry’s embrace, scribbling a note on the nightstand so Henry doesn’t panic upon finding him missing from bed, and he pads downstairs softly, David on his heels.

It’s time to tell Henry. All of it. The certainty settles deep in his bones, weighing him down even as he basks in the quiet of David’s morning walk, as he sits curled up on the sofa, watching the day break over New York City.

And so Alex writes. He writes pages and pages, strewn across the couch and scattered on the floor, feverishly, detailing every memory as they flash before his eyes in a burst of color. If there’s one thing Alex has always known how to do, it’s write. Maybe, if he can just get all the words down, maybe he’ll be able to say it. Even after three cups of coffee, Alex is still writing. It feels better, getting it all down on paper. It feels like maybe he can breathe a little, that the nausea gripping at his throat won’t win this time.

\--

Henry wakes slowly, shifting to bring Alex into his chest, only to have his arms close on empty air. He blinks, seeing the empty space beside him, and tries to quell the rising anxiety in his gut, tries to hold on to the progress they had made last night. His eyes travel to the alarm clock, where he sees a steaming mug of tea waiting for him. His spirits lift instantly. _Alex._ Alex knows implicitly how to care for Henry, the little things that make him feel better, and Henry wishes he was good like that for Alex. He takes a sip, swearing Alex makes tea better than anyone else, the tea steeped strong with only a dash of sugar, just how he likes it. 

Underneath the mug, he spots a note scribbled out hastily. 

_**H,** _

_**Have I told you your body comes back to me in dreams? It’s always you, keeping me safe, keeping the monsters at bay.** _

_**Wanted to let you sleep, you needed the rest. David and I are downstairs when you wake up. I love you, baby.** _

_**Margaret Mead to Ruth Benedict: “Ruth, I was never more earthborn in my life — and yet never more conscious of the strength your love gives me. You have convinced me of the one thing in life which made living worthwhile. You have no greater gift, darling. And every memory of your face, every cadence of your voice is joy whereon I shall feed hungrily in these coming months.”** _

Henry tries to ignore the sting of relieved tears that rise up reading Alex’s scrawl. No matter what, Alex believed in them. Believed in Henry. He always had. 

Balancing his mug, throwing on Alex’s NYU sweatshirt, he spots David on the couch next to Alex as he comes down the stairs, where Alex is surrounded by a sea of pages, yellow legal paper spreading out in an ever expanding radius, Alex’s glasses slipping down his nose as he scribbles furiously. Henry crosses to the couch - David barely bothers to acknowledge him, Henry can’t believe his lack of loyalty - and after a moment’s hesitation, he drops a soft kiss to Alex’s mussed curls.

To Henry’s immense relief, Alex leans into his touch, humming softly as he glances upwards, a smile flitting across his face at the sight of Henry.

“Morning,” Alex says, leaning up to kiss Henry softly.

Henry runs his fingers through Alex’s curls, his hand landing on the back of Alex’s neck.

“You’re up early,” he muses, scanning the papers scattered everywhere, words too messy to make out.

Alex sighs, and Henry can hear the tiredness there. “I just needed to get some thoughts down.”

Henry runs a finger gently down Alex’s cheek. “Darling - “ He knows Alex, knows Alex feels like he always has to keep working, and -

“I couldn’t stop thinking, last night, I finally let it…” Alex looks down at his hands. “But you, the feeling of you, holding me, keeping me… you kept me safe.”

Tears fill Henry’s eyes, and he leans his forehead down to Alex’s. “Sweetheart,” he breathes, overflowing with love and the need to get closer, closer to Alex. Their noses slot perfectly, rubbing against the other’s, faces like separated parts of one whole, as Alex’s lips brush his in the barest of kisses. 

_**“According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.”**_

Henry never used to believe in soulmates, until he found the person who fit him perfectly, who is the definition of his other half, who fills him up and makes him whole.

They stay there for a long time, Alex playing with the wisps of hair at the back of Henry’s neck, Henry nuzzling into Alex’s warmth.

Alex’s lips practically move against his as he whispers, “Come sit with me?”

Henry smiles as he locates his long abandoned mug of tea. “Always.”

He gets Alex another cup of coffee on instinct, adding cinnamon and a dash of milk, and heats up his tea - long gone cold - before joining Alex on the couch, where Alex has haphazardly organized his mess of papers on the coffee table. David plops into Henry’s lap and Henry smiles. “So you _do_ still like me, huh?”

David thumps his tail in assent as Henry scratches his ears. He can see Alex twisting his fingers nervously, and he reaches over to lay his hand on top of Alex’s.

“What is it, love?”

Alex looks up at him, with an expression in his eyes Henry can’t place.

“I - “ Alex takes a deep breath.

“I want to tell you… I want you to know the whole… all of it.”

Alex looks scared and unsure but determined, and Henry doesn’t understand, doesn’t get what Alex is so nervous to tell him. Alex bites his lip anxiously, and then it hits him, hard. _Oh, Alex._ He has to physically restrain himself from moving closer, contenting himself with threading their fingers together.

“Darling, you don’t owe me anything, okay? It doesn’t matter, I don’t need to - I just want to be able to help - “

“No, it - you’re my partner. You should - you should know. I - I couldn’t stop thinking...and I...I wrote it all down, so I could… I want you to.”

Henry looks at the coffee table. The pages. Alex scribbling furiously. His heart feels like it might break in two as he anxiously takes in Alex’s wan face, the dark circles under Alex’s eyes. The last thing he wants is for Alex to lose any of the progress he’s made in the last few days.

“You’re sure? Because darling, there’s no rush, really, I’ll be here, I promise - “

“I’m sure. I - “ Alex swallows hard. “If I’m going to get through this, I need you to know.”

“Okay.” Henry squeezes Alex’s hand lightly. “Alexander, love, whatever happened - nothing, and I mean nothing, could change the way I feel about you. You know that, right?”

Alex nods, trying to hide the slight trembling of his fingers and the tear slipping down his cheek. Henry reaches out and cups his jaw, for just a moment. “I feel forever about you, darling. I _love_ you, Alex."

Alex’s voice is rough and scratchy. “I love you too, baby.”

Alex takes a deep breath, and Henry can see him trying to fight off the shudder shaking his shoulders. Henry wants to hold him, so, so badly, but knows Alex will need his space for this. He watches Alex square his shoulders, making a conscious effort to look Henry in the eye. His beautiful, brave Alex.

“I mean, you already know about Liam, and how I felt, or didn’t… I mean, I didn’t really deal with it, didn’t really want to admit to myself, thought I could just ignore it, you know? But Liam was just…” Alex sighs. “I think I knew, I must’ve known, I just didn’t want to, and then hurt Liam - “

“He’s forgiven you, love. It’s normal, to…” _want to feel like you’re not splintering apart inside, Henry’s mind supplies._ Alex gives him a small, sad smile, and Henry knows he understands.

“I know, just…” Alex runs a hand through his hair. “Anyways, apart from a few drunken makeouts with some guys in college, I tried to prove to myself...I slept around with girls, tried to convince myself there wasn’t this piece of myself I was hiding…” 

“Which is part of the reason why I was always so drawn to Raf, I think. He was everything I wanted to be, unafraid to be himself, unashamed of being...and I just…” 

“He’d do anything for you, you know.” 

Alex shrugs it off, but he can see the pride at the praise lift his shoulders slightly. 

“I was so obsessed with trying to get on his campaign, doing everything all at once, that I wasn’t really taking time to breathe, and Felix…” Alex scrubs his face with his hands. “He...made everything slow down.” 

Henry feels his chest tighten at the mention of Felix, but hums to let Alex know he’s still listening. 

Alex looks at him now, desperate, eyes shiny with tears. “Not like you, baby, you have to know, you make my world stop, you’re...you’re undeniable, I - “ 

Henry reaches out and grabs Alex’s face. “Shh, darling, I know. It’s alright...It’s alright.” He keeps murmuring to Alex, even though everything is so far from being alright, even though his stomach is already roiling with nausea, holds Alex until his breathing slows. 

Henry gets them both glasses of water, and then Alex slowly begins speaking again. 

“It just felt like, Felix was the first person to really see me in… it felt dangerous, almost, made me feel alive in a way I hadn’t in… he was the first person to make me feel like… I could be - ” Alex chokes up but recovers. “Desirable to someone, you know?” 

Henry can’t help the small noise of protest that rises in his throat. 

“It’s just...I don’t look like other...most...what gay men are supposed to… ‘M curvy, darker skin, you know…" 

“Alex…” Henry can hardly believe what he’s hearing, that Alex, the human equivalent of the sun, could think of himself less than radiant. 

Color has risen to Alex’s cheeks, and he brushes Henry’s concern away. “It doesn’t matter." 

Henry vehemently disagrees, but supposes that’s a problem to tackle a different day. He rubs his thumb across the back of Alex’s hand, trying to convey his devotion to this man who’s extraordinary, inside and out, in one small touch. 

Alex is struggling to look at him now. “We started spending more time together, but it was always...for a while, it was always, I could justify it as a friends thing, working late together, getting drinks, catching a movie… I noticed the way his hand would linger too long, but I couldn’t...I didn’t _want_ to stop it." 

Henry tries to ignore the rush of anger and focus only on Alex, Alex, and how broken his voice sounds. 

“Then...one night..I don’t know how it happened...Felix and I were at this bar taking shots, and I hadn’t eaten dinner that night, and I got way too drunk too fast, and we… I don’t even remember how we got there, but suddenly we’re at this club, and we’re dancing…” His eyes flicker to Henry and then flicker away. “And then we’re not just dancing, and he’s...Felix's kissing me and it felt _right_ , like something clicked into place, just like with Liam, and then he’s leading me somewhere, I don’t know where we’re going, I’m so drunk everything is spinning, I’m just following him, and then we’re in the bathroom and Felix's sticking my hand down his pants and helping me jack him off and I - “ 

Alex’s breath is heaving now, he’s curling in on himself, beginning to rock back and forth, and Henry tries not to interrupt, but he's boiling with rage and hurt for his beautiful Alex. 

“Alex, darling, that isn’t righ- “ 

Alex’s next words come in a whisper, broken and choppy. “He called me beautiful, and I just wanted to be good for him.” 

Henry can’t help it. His heart is breaking. He goes to sweep Alex into a hug, but immediately he can feel how tense he is, how far away. Alex lets out a sob into his shoulder. 

“Alex, maybe we should take a break for now - “ 

“No, Henry, please, just let me, I need to - “ He sounds desperate, a little wild, and while Henry isn’t sure this is the best idea, he releases Alex, moving David into Alex's lap as he gives Alex space. 

“Okay, okay, darling, whatever you need.” 

Alex’s eyes are red rimmed and his hands are shaking uncontrollably now. “I couldn’t even look Felix in the eye for the next week. I was so - I didn’t know how to feel, I was so mixed up inside…” 

Henry grimaces as he watches Alex begin to scratch at the inside of his wrist. “Felix...apologized...said he must have misread…” 

Henry snorts softly at that. Alex’s eyes jerk towards him, and Henry realizes he looks - terrified, so Henry grabs his hand again, trying to tell Alex he isn’t mad at him, this isn’t his fault, could never be… 

“He invited me over to his place...to smooth things over...takeout and a movie...just casual, between friends...we’d done that before, I - I didn’t think anything of it. I - we’re there, on his couch, I remember, it was this red leather, I was eating pad thai from the container and we were drinking this plum wine, and he kept rubbing my thigh with his foot. I didn’t move away, I don’t know why I didn’t…” 

Alex’s voice is so soft now it’s almost impossible to hear him. His eyes are glassy, Henry keeps rubbing his hand, to remind Alex he’s here, he’s right next to him, but Henry isn’t sure Alex knows he’s in the room, anymore. 

“He asked me if that night - that night we were at the club together - if that was the first time I’d ever...with a man. I told him, that someone...had...to me, once...but I’d never...I’d never slept with…not, you know, "properly"... 

And he, something changed, in his eyes, he brought his lips right up to my ear, whispered, _“Never?”_...I could smell the sweet wine on his breath…” 

Alex shudders violently. 

“He moved his mouth so, so close to mine, and asked if I wanted to. I - I didn’t know what to say, it was like everything was frozen, everything was moving so slowly and I couldn’t make my mouth move and he - “ 

There are tears streaming down Alex’s face now, and he swallows hard, and Henry distantly realizes he’s crying too, but he keeps holding Alex’s hand, he keeps hanging on, he won’t ever let go. 

“He kissed me, hard, and it was like, it was like he wanted to… to claim me, or something, and I, I couldn’t help it, I kissed him back, it’s all my fault - “ Alex is crying harder now. 

Henry is beyond horrified, sickened, grieving for everything Alex experienced. “No, Alex, no - “ 

Alex doesn’t seem to hear him. “And he said, _that seems like a yes to me,_ and he’s ripping my shirt off and his hands are on my hips and I think I must’ve wanted it because otherwise why would’ve I - “ Alex is breathing faster now and grips his hair hard. “I let him, I let him, Henry, and then he’s pushing me back onto the bed and - “ 

Alex doubles over and a moan comes choked from his throat. Henry doesn’t know if touching him will make it worse or better. He rocks back and forth and Henry’s heart is _breaking_ and - 

“And I think I said "Felix-" or maybe told him to wait but I couldn’t make my mouth move, Henry, it seemed like this wasn’t happening to me, like this wasn’t really happening, he had his hands on my wrists and then he took my jeans off and he flipped me over and - “ 

Alex clutches Henry’s hand so hard his knuckles turn white as his sobs increase and he breathes faster. 

“Alex, love, deep breaths,” Henry says quietly, desperately wishing there was something, anything he could do to take this away, to make this stop for Alex. 

“And sometimes I still feel his lips on me, Henry, I can still smell his cologne on my skin even though I’ve tried so hard to scrub it off, Henry, I just want him gone, please, Henry, make it stop, please - “ 

“Darling, I’m so sorry,” Henry whispers, he’s sobbing now, too, and he tries to move closer to Alex, but Alex jumps. 

“And then he was fingering me and it hurt, Henry, it hurt, I knew I didn’t want it, I _knew_ , why didn’t I say anything, who does that, who _does_ that, it’s my fault, Henry, I let it happen - “ 

“It’s not your fault, Alex, it’s not your fault, love. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault - “ 

“And he was asking if it was okay and I said _yes_ , but it wasn't, god, why would I say yes, maybe I wanted it to hurt, maybe I wanted to hurt, maybe I thought I deserved it Henry - “ 

“It’s not your fault, Alex.” Henry’s repeating it over and over, hoping he can break through to wherever Alex is. 

“But then - “ Alex gasps, he’s choking on snot and tears. “Then with no warning he’s shoving in, he’s shoving inside of me, and he barely prepped me at all, I know it wasn't right, he - it hurt so bad Henry, it was so painful, it hurt so much, and I didn’t know what to do - “ 

Alex collapses into his arms then, and Henry strokes his hair, holding Alex to his chest as Alex sobs, unable to catch his breath. “I’m so sorry, love.” His voice cracks, and Henry almost loses it, but he commands himself to stay strong, for Alex. “It was wrong, what he did. It was wrong.” 

“But I didn’t _say anything_ , I just let him do it, who does that Henry, who does that, and he just kept going and going and going and it hurt so bad and I just stared at his shoes and I just laid there like some disposable fucking doll, he held my wrists down and it wasn’t gentle at all, it wasn’t - he kept asking me if I liked it, if I - ” Alex makes a sudden gagging sound, and Henry wonders absently if he should get a bucket, or if he even cares right now.  
“And when it was over, when he finally stopped, I just got up and put my pants on and grabbed my clothes and shoes and ran out of there like a fucking coward, I was bleeding, I had, I had blood running down my legs, I can still feel it sometimes - “ 

Henry feels bile rise in his throat. He was going to make this man’s life a living fucking hell. 

“And Cash was outside the door, he took one look at me and realized what happened, I didn’t want to go the hospital but he made me, Raf met us there, I can still see the look in his eyes, and I - “ 

Alex stops suddenly, and Henry is terrified by the sudden silence. 

He speaks quietly, almost in a monotone. “I think that was the worst part. The exam. They had to - look at everything, take pictures, insert - “ 

Alex’s voice sounds more shattered than it has this entire time. 

“I had to say yes before every fucking step, H. They had to hear me, they had to hear me say yes, before they would -” 

Alex’s breathing begins to pick up again, panicked, as tears begin to stream down his face. “I don’t think he’s ever going to go away. It’s my fault, it’s my fault, I’m so, so sorry Henry. I’m so sorry.” 

Henry takes Alex’s face in his hands. “Alex, it’s not your fault, okay? It’s not your fault. I need you to breathe with me, okay? Focus on me, alright?” He puts Alex’s hand on his heart. 

“Can you hear that? Alright, copy me, okay? Deep breath in, and deep breath out. In for ten, and out for eight…. deep breath in…. and deep breath out… deep breath in… that’s it sweetheart, you’re doing so well… deep breath out…. keep breathing… deep breath in…. deep breath out….” 

They breathe together, until Alex’s breathing has calmed, and Alex's head is settled on Henry’s chest, against his heart, eyes closed. Henry runs his fingers through Alex’s hair, and speaks softly. 

“You wanna sleep for a while?” 

Alex nods slightly without opening his eyes. 

“Want me to stay?” 

Alex nods again, his hand coming to clutch at Henry’s sweatshirt. 

"I’m not going anywhere, darling...sleep now...sleep, and I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise.” 

“Thank you.” Alex whispers, voice raw. 

Henry hesitates, then continues. “Thank you for telling me, darling. I can’t imagine…” He swallows hard past the lump in his throat. “This was so brave, Alex, and I will be here for whatever you need, okay? I’m so honored you trust me, and anything you need, anything Alex, I don’t care… He used you, Alex, this was not your fault, it was his, and you are - “ Henry’s aware there are tears sliding down his cheeks now but he can’t stop them. “You are the most beautiful, brilliant, extraordinary man I’ve ever met, and I’ll spend every day proving that to you if I have to. God knows you already do that for me.” 

Henry can feel his shirt getting wet where Alex’s head lays. “I love you,” Alex murmurs. 

“I love you too, darling.” 

Henry tucks a blanket over them both, and as Alex breathing slowly evens out and he gets much needed sleep, Henry thinks. Henry thinks about how Alex has always been an incredibly generous lover, and never liked attention devoted solely to his pleasure. How Alex always insisted giving Henry pleasure gave him pleasure. How whenever Henry tried to focus on Alex in bed, Alex would shy away, eventually turning the focus back to him. It was finally all starting to make sense. 

As he lays with Alex on his chest, Henry begins to make a list in his head. Of the things he can do to help dismantle Alex’s trauma, and help him begin to accept love. One step at a time, no matter how long it takes. 


End file.
